


Sanders Sides: Sleep-Walking

by Xephina_The_Eleven



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Other, Sanders Sides - Freeform, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-05 00:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xephina_The_Eleven/pseuds/Xephina_The_Eleven
Summary: What happens when Virgil finds that the other Sides have started sleep-walking?Special thanks to @Panacea_for_broken_souls for helping me to edit this monumental 31,000+ word story!!!This is from my collection of Sanders Sides BROTP One-Shots that you can read here:https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480292PLEASE GO AND READ THE EXPLANATION FOR SLEEP-WALKING!!!https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494170/chapters/38859314





	Sanders Sides: Sleep-Walking

Virgil glanced at the clock on his bedroom wall; half-past three in the morning, not an uncommon time for him to be awake. He often spent the nights thinking or brooding seeing as he was his host’s fight-or-flight reflex, it was up to him to be alert in case of danger. No one knew if there could be a break-in, freak natural-disaster, or something else, that being the case; he couldn’t risk sleeping often. Frequently he stayed up for days on end, rarely napping, and that was only if he was certain that the others sides were in a position to watch over Thomas. For now however, he was left to sit alone in his mundane routine and the dim-light of his room. Currently he was resting on his bed, reading _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ ; his fingers picked to the point of bleeding, and his lip nearly chewed through due to the fears that he embodied, and the dark thoughts that accompanied the lonely hours.

He snapped his head up from the pages at the sound of foot-fall echoing from the corridor beyond his corner of the mindscape. The others had made it clear in the past that they abhorred the night; with Logan claiming he needed adequate rest to function, Patton always trying to enforce a strict bedtime, and Roman going on and on about his beauty sleep. Therefore, Anxiety didn’t know why he was still so startled at hearing them because, despite their insistence on needing rest, a pattern had formed as of late. One that consisted of the others roaming the halls, even long after they had informed him that they were going to bed. Stranger still was that all of them denied ever staying awake or getting up when he had questioned them on the matter, and instead received stern words about his own sleeping habits.

Closing his book and placing it on his bedside table, the darkest of the traits chose to ignore their claims, deciding that it was finally time to get to the bottom of the mystery that had plagued him for the last few weeks. He made his way to the door and opening it with care; listening more closely, a few moments later he recognized the upbeat, almost skipping like tread of Morality’s footsteps. Virgil moved into the hall, peering into the darkness before him, just able to make out the silhouette of the aspect he had identified, who appeared to be wandering aimlessly, as if he had no destination in mind or reason for being awake at all.

He wore his dark-grey cat onesie, the hood pulled up over his head, but he didn’t have his glasses. That’s when he noticed it, the crucial detail that explained what had been going on, the one who was seemingly awake still had his eyes closed; he was sleep-walking. Having solved the enigma, he was about to return to his room when he heard the voice of his usually-cheerful counterpart, it was too low to decipher what he had said, but the tone was unmistakably his. Changing course and paying closer attention, the youngest facet was able to hear his next words, and they shocked him to the core. “W-What do you mean you don’t need me anymore?” Before he could ponder the question properly, he spoke again sounding as if he were on the brink of tears. “I-I'm doing all I can kiddos…please…you know I only want what’s best…don’t- please! I’ll do anything! Just don’t make me leave! I don’t want to lose any of you! I-” Patton’s terrified whisper was cut short as he walked back into his corner of the mind-palace, closing the door behind him.

Anxiety knew that he would never have expressed such worries were he awake; perhaps it had just been a nightmare. Whether that was true or not, was he actually afraid that the others didn’t need him, and moreover, that they would abandon him? Shaking his head, he returned to his own living-space, deciding that he would watch over the paternal character for a few more nights before addressing the topic.

The next night the negative emotion sat in silence by his door, awaiting the inevitable sound of steps from outside. As he lingered in his room, hours blended together, and yet minutes seemed to drag on for hours. He didn’t dare pick up his book, for fear that he would be so engulfed in it that he would miss the echo of footfall from the corridor. At last he heard the familiar sound of someone walking around beyond the threshold, but it wasn’t Morality. To say he was surprised and confused would have been an understatement at best, but still he held his breath, waiting for the indication of who it was in the hall, and after a few seconds he recognized the evenly-paced, confident stride of Logan. Turning the knob and looking out into the inky shadows, the frame of the second-eldest was clearly defined by the light that spilled from his room, and he had to stifle a laugh at what he saw, he was wearing a white unicorn onesie. Putting that aside, Virgil was able to notice that much like the persona the night before, he lacked his glasses, and his eyes too were shut.

One of the other sides sleep-walking was odd enough, but two seemed like more than just a coincidence, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and waited to see if Logic would say anything. Sure enough, just like with Patton the night before, the quiet was broken by a fearful whisper, “th-that’s not what I meant!” Daring to move a bit closer, he strained to hear the rest of what his colleague said, “h-how could my calculations have b-been this in-incorrect? I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!” The intellectual paused for a moment, giving the observant trait the impression that he was listening to only half of a conversation. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt! This is my fault…all because I was wrong…” Slowly he meandered back to his area of their host’s mind, but as he did so, Anxiety could have sworn he heard the word _infinitesimal_ go by just before the door clicked shut.

Returning to his own room; thoughts raced through his head, two of the three others seemed to sleep-walk, but more than that, they vocalized thoughts they would never say otherwise. Once more, the gloomy manifestation found that he was trying to convince himself that his friends were merely having nightmares, but he knew better than anyone that real fears were what fueled the dark dreams. A nagging sensation told him that there was more to the story than what he was seeing currently, and he wasn’t anywhere near the end of it.

An idea struck him like lightning; rushing to his desk he took a small black notebook from one of its drawers. If he was going to solve this issue, he was going to have to steal one of Logan’s tactics and take some notes. His hand moved with amazing speed as he wrote both names down, what they said, the time, and dates in which he had heard them. If he kept a log, he would be able to compare what they said each night and pinpoint the root of the fears. Maybe this was something he could do for the others if they had deeper psychological issues that they were suppressing; perhaps he could help them through it.

Virgil was lost in thought while the next day passed in a blur of activities, and for once he actually willed for night to approach faster so he could continue his monitoring of the logical and moral aspects. In the same breath, as he saw them throughout the day, he had to act as if nothing were out of the ordinary and be his normal, disinterested self. Eventually, after the agony of waiting through the ridiculous banter of the more light-hearted duo, and the deductions of the analytical attribute, they retired for the night. Sitting in the silence of his room was just as difficult, normally he would focus on his music or Tumblr to distract himself from the panicked thoughts that clawed at him when he was alone, but he couldn’t risk it. He had to listen so he could discern the inevitable set of steps that would come from the hall during the witching-hours.

The night felt as if it would never end, and Anxiety was beginning to wonder if there was actually an issue to address, but just as the thought entered his mind he heard the familiar creak of a door being opened. From his place, the youngest facet listened intently for the tell-tale signs as whether it was Logan or Patton in the hall beyond. Instead he was met with the pace that didn’t coincide with either of them, it sounded as if the one in the hall was dragging their feet or stumbling as they walked. Unable to distinguish who was up, he gently opened his door and for the third time in as many nights, gazing out into the shadows, and was once again taken by surprise when he saw Roman’s darkened silhouette.

He wore a pair of red-silk pajamas with the letters _‘RS’_ monogrammed on the front pocket, and ironically was more professionally dressed than either of the other two. That didn’t account for his stride sounding so unlike his own; normally he walked with confidence, and loudly at that, as if he wanted everyone to be aware of his presence. Similar to the other two he was less than graceful in the way that he moved with no sense of direction, but he differed in the respect that there were no factors connecting his stature and gait to the way he acted when he was awake. Notebook and pen in hand, he waited with bated breath to see if the only commonality Princey had with the others was his sleep-walking, or if he would also speak.

Silence enveloped them for so long that Virgil was beginning to think that the creative side may not have been lying when he alluded to having no fears, but once more he was proven wrong. A voice pierced through the quiet, but just like his tread, it sounded off, raspy and dull, creating the feeling that he was too tired to make his vocal chords work properly. “No…No! This can’t be…” his voice sounded deepened and disjointed in a vaguely familiar way. After a moment, the one dressed in black and purple found himself stunned as he came to the realization that his counterpart shared all the features of his own voice. The fear was part of it, but what made him so different from the other two was the range and lack of effort put into his tone. “Woe is me!” He rolled his eyes, even asleep the fanciful embodiment was over-dramatic, but he didn’t have time to contemplate that as he broke the silence once more, “w-what do you mean? Let me prove myself…my-my…worth.” Anxiety nearly dropped the paper and writing-utensil when his head shot up at the words that were murmured. “P-Please…I’m not worthless…” The way he trailed off made the younger feel as if he were once again listening to only one part of a conversation. “No, don’t try and take it back…you’re right…you’re all right…I am…worthless.” With the last word still hanging in the deathly-still air, Roman returned to his room, leaving Virgil in a baffled stupor.

Shaking his head, he expediently jotted down his notes and walked back into his own corner of the mindscape. Setting the notebook back on his desk, he couldn’t help but think and re-think over what his friend had said, was he really afraid he was worthless? The Prince had always come across as confident, sometimes to the point that he seemed full of himself. Was it possible that his nature of being bold and brave was just a façade? In all the time that they had known one another, the negative side would have never have thought that they would share such a dark fear.

Days and nights blended together, each more exhausting than the one before, and the newfound responsibility of watching over the others during their bouts of somnambulism, resulted in the youngest trait getting even less sleep than before. His days were filled with acting ignorant, all while trying to discretely pick up on any idiosyncrasies that the others may have, to give him further information. Then his nights were spent restlessly awaiting their movement, writing down what they said, did, and attempting to formulate a way in which each of them could work through the fears they had. During the late hours, none of them were ever up at the same time, but throughout the night, it wasn’t uncommon for two, if not all three of them to have an episode at some point.

Presently Anxiety sat at his desk, which he had moved against the wall next to his door, allowing him to work on naming the others’ fears, and try to come up with solutions for them, all while being in a position to leap up whenever he heard footsteps. It was fairly early in the evening, so he was nearly certain that he would have time to review his notes before anyone else would disturb the silence. His head ached with fatigue as he read, but he kept going, knowing that it was the last night he was going to keep an eye on the three personifications. He was nearly finished with his work, and upon the understanding that it might be a bit crass to bring up each of their worries up in front of the others, he intended on pulling them aside one at a time the next day, and speaking with them individually.

The darker aspect continued to look through the neatly-organized and well detailed logs he’d been keeping over the past few weeks. All followed up by the techniques and plans he had prepared for each of them based on the doubts they had exhibited and the characteristics they embodied. Flipping back to the first page he glanced at the inside of the front cover, on which he had written a list of fears for each of them. After a few nights of wracking his mind and scouring though any reliable sources he could find, it had become clear to him that it was going to be impossible to narrow the information down to one phobia per attribute. Instead he had compiled a set of lists, that when put together encompassed the main worry they had. Carefully, so as to not miss any mistakes he may have overlooked in nights prior, he began reading over the lineups.

 

_ Patton _

_- Monophobia / Autophobia – The fear of being alone or abandoned_

_- Erenophobia – The fear of loneliness _

_- Isolophobia – The fear of isolation or solitude_

 

Patton’s had been fairly easy to figure out, each time he would sleep-walk, he would fret about not being needed by the others. Periodically he would say one of their names while he pleaded with them to be allowed to stay, but that was a rare occurrence to say the least. It was heart-wrenching to listen to his words as he begged not to be cast out; and it was almost as uncommon as their names, but some nights he even spoke of the hardships of already having been made to leave. Overall, his most common phrase was, _‘Please don’t make me leave,’_ and many times Virgil had to stop himself when he realized he was moving to wake the eldest facet.

 

_ Logan _

_- Atychiphobia – The fear of being wrong _

_- Atelophobia – The fear of imperfection (In Logan's case pertaining to knowledge or calculations)_

_- Kakorrhaphophobia – The fear of failure_

_- Paralepophobia – The fear of neglecting responsibility_

 

Logan’s fears were a bit harder for Anxiety to label, seeing as they upon first inspection seemed to vary so widely. After looking more in depth, both literally, and to some extent metaphorically at his words, he had been able to narrow it down to a few. At the root, his most basic fear was being wrong, and that having a severely negative impact on Thomas and his colleagues. Even the idea of failure or not making perfect marks seemed to terrify the second-eldest. Many times he fearfully rambled on about checking calculations over and over, and outcomes that didn’t match up with the variables he had in the dream. During the day, the younger had even noticed him going over his work with more vigor, even if he didn’t realize why. His frequented sentences consisted of two statements, _‘but that’s impossible,’_ and, _‘this shouldn’t be happening!’_

 

_ Roman _

_- Allodoxophobia – The fear of others opinions_

_- Atelophobia – The fear of imperfection (In Roman’s case pertaining to the self)_

_- Athazagoreaphobia – The fear of being forgotten or ignored_

                                                     

Roman’s worries struck a particular chord with the anxious side, considering it was something that also affected him greatly. The real fear he had was not being useful or being worthless, but so far he was yet to come across a name for such a phobia. That issue was the one which influenced Virgil to start making lists in the first place, because once he put the worries together, they added up to the singular and much larger problem. The most painful part was that Princey’s sleep-walking always ended with the exact same words, _‘I am worthless.’_

The youngest emotion jumped out of his chair when he read the words, because as he did so, he recognized the corresponding, stumbling footfall in the corridor. Taking the notebook with him, he stepped out of his room and began his notes of each movement made, and word said by the other for the last night. In his rush to write everything down however, Anxiety was too late to notice what was happening right before him. Throwing the book and pen back into his room, even his fight-or-flight reflexes weren’t fast enough as he jumped for his friend, “Roman!” Just before he was able to reach the Prince, his footing was lost and he fell down the stairs that marked one end of the hall. The darker trait was hardly aware that the noise had roused Logan and Patton, as he darted down the steps two at a time, in an attempt to make sure the creative aspect wasn’t severely hurt.

He was trying to stand, and had managed to prop himself up on his arms as Virgil reached out to help him up, but he was shocked as the normally-eccentric archetype swatted at him. He just barely jumped back in time to avoid the hand that was obviously meant to claw him across the face.

His companion looked up at the negative facet, fury glittering behind his eyes in the half-light, but he was more worried about the blood that now flowed freely from a cut beneath his bangs. Once again darkly-dressed manifestation reached to do something about the situation, but this time the other managed to land a blow, raking his remarkably sharp nails from the inner corner of the Anxiety’s right eye, across the bridge of his nose, and to the bottom-left side of his jaw. Moving back, he felt the blood welling up from his own new injuries, and barely heard the gasps that echoed from the other two who had apparently reached the top of the stairs.

Roman’s voice was a low growl that seemed to echo throughout the mind-palace, “what the hell was that?!”

Virgil was still reeling from the shock of the fall and his friend’s outward display of violence, to the point that he couldn’t even feel the pain of the new lacerations across his face. “I-I was trying to help you.” He stumbled to find the right words, when he came to the realization of what the situation must look like to Princey. Here he was, standing just a few steps above him and no matter what angle you looked at it from, it seemed as if his fall had been an intentional attack against the second-youngest. “N-No I-I didn-”

“Help me?! Why would you want to help me when you-”

“Kiddos, what happened?!” Morality had regained his bearings from the strike the creative character had landed, and cut off the one in question. Both he and Logic stood above them with onesies on; looking down with mixed expressions of horror and confusion.

Finally the fanciful attribute shifted his gaze to look up at the two new arrivals, “ _what happened?!_ I’ll tell you what happened, _Mr. Bleak_ here pushed me down the stairs!”

Anxiety was at a loss, he knew the whole ordeal looked grim, and anything he tried to come up with to say in his defense would seem like a questionable excuse at best, but he had to do something. “N-No! T-That’s not what happened!” He paused, his breath was coming in quick, shallow gulps, “I tried to _stop_ you from falling!”

“Oh really, because the only thing I remember is my head hitting the stairs on the way down, and when I looked up, _you_ were the only one standing there.” Virgil took a few more paces back, far more hurt by the accusation and the hatred that was reflected in his counterpart’s eyes than any physical blow could ever conjure.

The fatherly figure darted past him, and the darkest side was ready to jump forward to keep him safe, but Roman didn’t portray any aggression towards the eldest, “listen here, both of you. We can play the blame game later, but for now we need to make sure Roman is okay…” He faltered for a moment as if unsure of what his next action should be, but he quickly jumped into action, “Logan could you go and get me some bandages and rubbing alcohol from the hall closet please.” The academic nodded, clearly not willing to defy Patton when he got into his parental state of mind, and darted back into the corridor. “Virgil, perhaps you should wait in your room for the time being, and try to get those scratches cleaned up,” It was clear that Morality wasn’t trying to blame him, as much as keep him separated from Princey, who was still shooting death glares at him.

For a moment he considered disobeying, but he took a page from Logic’s book and did as he was told, with his head down he made his way back for his room. Anxiety passed the intellectual as he went, and didn’t miss the stern look he was given just before he closed the door between them. Silently he picked the notebook and pen up and placed them back on the desk before heading to the bathroom. Running some warm water in the sink, he used that and a small bit of soap to clean the four surprisingly deep gashes which ran diagonally across his face. Glancing in the mirror, he guessed that one of the middle ones would end up scarring, even long after it had healed.

Draining the water and gently patting the wounds with a towel to dry them, he returned his eyes to the reflective surface. If only he hadn’t been so distracted by his ridiculous notes, if he had just been paying attention, then he could have done his actual job. In the end he knew whether the others believed him or not, he was still to blame. Why hadn’t he been able to stop Roman from falling, he had had every opportunity to do so, and yet he had been so obsessed with the fears which didn’t even appear to plague the others that much during the day, so why had he cared about them at all? They didn’t seem to pose too big of an issue, or did they? It was the sleep-walking that had been the actual cause of the fall, what was to say it wouldn’t happen to the others? No, _it wasn’t going to happen to the others_ , next time he wouldn’t have his nose in a book, next time he would be fast enough.

Leaving the bathroom, he took the book and pen, and placed them in the drawer of his bedside table. He would get back to them soon enough, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before Patton would come to talk to him, and it certainly wasn’t the right time to bring up the issues the book held. He stood by his bed wondering if he would ever bring up all of the work he had done, or if he would leave the book and its contents hidden away. As if on cue, there was a knocking at the door; knowing he couldn’t avoid him forever, the youngest trait moved to open the door. He had been correct, as it swung inward on its hinges, it revealed Morality. He had apparently gone to retrieve his glasses, which now rested on the bridge of his nose, but they were askew. He still wore his pajamas, but the hood had been pushed back and the mittens discarded.

“Son, do you want to explain what happened?” It was obvious the eldest had no time for jokes just now, one of his sons was hurt, and he was confronting the possible culprit.

Anxiety drew a quick breath, “Is Roman okay?”

There was a momentary lapse in the stern gaze of the other, as if he were shocked that the question had been asked. “Yes, his injuries weren’t severe, a minor cut on his head and a sprained wrist. Now answer my question.”

Virgil couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of the usually-happy aspect, “I didn’t push him if that’s what you’re wondering…but Roman’s right…it was my fault…”

As he trailed off Patton’s spoke again, “and why is that?” The darker facet couldn’t bring himself to respond. “ _Virgil ‘Anxiety’ Sanders_ , you will answer me this instant! One of my sons is hurt and he claims it was you, so what happened?!” Morality’s voice rang clearly through the room, causing him to flinch away.

He closed his eyes, guilt and shame burning at him like a seething fire, “I-I was there…I heard footsteps in the hall…so I went to check who would be up so late, and when I walked out the door…I wasn’t fast enough to catch him before he fell.”

“So how does that make the situation your fault exactly?” For the time being the fatherly persona seemed genuinely confused.

“I-I’m the fight-or-flight response…what purpose do I serve if I can’t even do my job, and keep you guys from getting hurt.” The negative side was trying to fight down the sense of panic that was creeping up his spine.

Patton stood in silence until Anxiety was forced to lift his gaze, he looked up but dared not lift his head and reveal the marks across his face, “kiddo, that doesn’t make this your fau-”

“Yes it does!” He knew his breath was becoming quicker, but he couldn’t fight it, and his vision was beginning to narrow, “that’s the only redeeming quality I have! If I can’t even do that…” He trailed off, feeling the ground moving beneath his feet and his knees buckled. Next thing he knew the fatherly attribute had his hands wrapped around his arm, gently sitting him down on the bed before he had a chance to fall to the floor. The youngest could feel the shaking and light-headedness that accompanied the hyperventilation, “I-If I can't do that…then what good am I...?”

“Virgil!” His friend sounded both shocked and hurt, “I don’t want to hear any more of this! You are as much a part of this family as Logan, Roman, or I, and you put forth far more than just being a fight-or-flight reflex.” He paused briefly, allowing him to take in what had been said before he continued. “Now you need to calm down and talk to me… Roman claims he doesn’t remember ever walking to the stairs and thinks it’s amnesia from hitting his head, can you give me an explanation for that?”

The still-panicked aspect looked to the floor, trying to stop the room from spinning; this was not how he wanted to bring up the topics of their sleep-walking and nightmares. “I don’t know how he got to the top of the stairs, like I said I heard footsteps and…I wasn’t fast enough…he’ll probably never forgive me for that.”

Patton looked skeptical, and honestly Anxiety couldn’t blame him, it was a feeble lie, “never say never kiddo, I'm gonna go talk to Roman and see if I can calm him down.” He didn’t reply with words, but simply nodded as the other left the room.

With the main part of the crisis over, and him being left alone to try and sleep for the night, Virgil still sat on the edge of his bed shaking from the thoughts that coursed through his mind. How could he have let this happen, his one job was to keep the others safe. Learning the others’ fears was just a way to try and get in their good graces, and now that had back-fired. He had been so focused on his own little project, that he hadn’t noticed the danger right under his nose. No matter what the Morality said, Princey was now hurt and it was entirely his fault. What was worse was that his creative counterpart would probably never trust him again, especially if he believed he had been _pushed_ down the stairs.

In a moment of sheer desperation, Anxiety retrieved the book and pen from his drawer and began scribbling things down in hand-writing that was nearly illegible. The words he wrote all but undermined everything else he had written and logged. When he had finished, a wave of fury crashed over him and he threw the objects as hard as he could across the room. The pen bounced off the wall and landed in some unknown place, while the notebook fluttered violently to the floor after hitting the top of his closet door. Still breathing quickly and shaking, he curled up on his bed, drawing his knees close to his chest, and with no energy left to fight, he let himself be consumed by the same fears he embodied.

Virgil had no idea how much time had passed when he heard the knocking on his door that signaled that it was time for breakfast. He thought of skipping the meal, not wanting to face the others, especially Roman, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. The traits as a unit didn’t work together all that much outside of filming, so Patton insisted that they eat as a family to try and overcome some of the boundaries they still had. Something told him however, that this wasn’t going to be a meal in which anything would be resolved.

Taking his time, Anxiety threw his black and purple hoodie around his shoulders, actually zipping it up and put his headphones around his neck. He put on his signature black eye-shadow, but didn’t risk putting on his pale foundation for fear that it would get into the cuts from the night before, and they would become infected. Glancing in the mirror, he swiftly looked away; the four long streaks across his face were just a reminder of what he had failed to do. He knew he deserved the blow, and that the Prince had fared far worse because of his failure, so he couldn’t complain.

Silently, against his better judgment, he made his way down the steps to join the others, and from their voices, he could tell he was the last to make an appearance. Before the others could see him, he put the hood of his jacket over his head to conceal his face. When he sat down, the other facets grew quiet and ate the meal without their usual banter. Discretely casting his gaze around the table, he couldn’t help but notice the concerned expression that Patton wore and the uncomfortable look in Logan’s eyes as he ate his pancakes, which for some reason had _Crofter’s Jam_ on them. Then there was Roman; his eyes, which still burned with anger, were trained on Virgil, and if he had to guess, he would say that his quick scope of the table had not gone unnoticed by the fanciful personification, but neither of them said anything.

Time felt as if it was creeping by at the rate of a sleeping heartbeat, each moment, sound, and tick of the clock was excruciating, and only Morality was confident enough to speak, his voice sounding loud after such an extended period of silence. “Did…did everyone sleep okay last night?”

Logic jumped at the opportunity to break the awkward tension, “I feel adequately rested, how about you two?”

Anxiety didn’t want to say anything; even if he did he would be lying, so why bother, but he was saved from being asked again as Roman let his tone rise above the hushed room. “Well I for one hardly got any sleep at all with this _sling_ on my arm.” He spat the word _‘sling’_ in the direction of the youngest side, but he wasn’t going to rise to the bait, he deserved whatever Princey said to him.

The eldest trait cleared his throat before addressing the only one who had remained silent, “how about you kiddo, did you sleep okay?”

Moving the eggs around his plate with a fork, but not eating them, he responded with a voice that was raspy and dull from screaming the night before in panic, “fine I guess.”

“Well that’s good at leas-”

The low growl of the creative aspect cut off Patton’s charismatic tone, “oh great! I don’t get my proper beauty sleep, but _Captain Von Snapp_ over here managed to get some rest.” Virgil could feel the fear rising in his throat and did his best to fight it down, but Roman kept going, “I don’t see how that’s fair considering he assaulted me last night!”

Finally the dam broke, and part of his panic turned to anger, without lifting his head, he raised his voice to match his mocking tone, “I never touched you!” He hissed the words like a cat that was backed into a corner, “you fell down the stairs, I tried to stop you but couldn’t! I failed okay! I’m sorry! I tried to help you and then you assaulted me!” He threw his head back, letting his hood fall, and the Prince gasped at the sight of the gashes along his nose and cheek. “If it makes you feel any better I didn’t sleep at all last night, just like every night!”

As the words left Anxiety’s lips, the walls seemed to close in on him and his heart began to race. Quickly placing the hood back over his head and shielding his face from the shocked eyes of the others, he pushed his chair back violently, nearly knocking it over. He darted for the common room, feeling that there was no speed fast enough to get him out from under their watchful gazes.

Morality’s voice rose up behind him, almost pleading for him to come back to the table, but there was no way he was going to return after what had just happened. When it became apparent that he wasn’t coming back the tone shifted to a scolding one, and was quite clearly directed at Roman. “From what I saw last night, Virgil didn’t do anything to you; it was _you_ who lashed out on him!” Unable to listen to anymore, he placed his headphones over his ears playing the loudest music he had one his phone before curling up on the couch.

Patton glared at Princey over the breakfast table, all of them sitting in a tense silence, with Logan focused solely on his pancakes, but once in a while his eyes would glance over to Anxiety’s uneaten meal. Roman dared to meet his gaze, and the fierce look in his eyes turned to terror as Morality spoke, his voice having fully taken on the tone of an angry father. “You listen to me young man! Virgil was brave to even join us for breakfast this morning, because I would be willing to bet he knew something like this would happen, but he came anyway, and what you just did was way out of line! Next time you see him, you owe Virgil an apology, do you understand me?”

“He pushed me down the stairs!” Roman sounded defiant, but he shrunk away under his gaze.

The eldest trait couldn’t believe what his second-youngest son was saying, “until I know exactly what happened I don’t want to hear any more accusations, because I’ll tell you something that I probably shouldn’t. Virgil told me he didn’t push you down the stairs, and I will admit that I had my doubts, but I’m starting to believe he’s telling the truth, do you know why that is?” The Prince shook his head but wisely didn’t speak, “even though he told me he didn’t push you down the stairs, he still thought the whole situation was his fault, because he wasn’t fast enough to catch you. Now he has thrown himself under the bus in an attempt to make sure you don’t hate him, so next time you see him you will give him a sincere apology, not only for what you’ve just said, but for lashing out on him last night. Do I make myself clear?!” Roman quickly nodded in agreement before shifting his eyes back to his plate.

Patton knew he sounded nothing like himself, but he was angry with the creative facet, and the lack of sleep from the constant nightmares he’d been having as of late didn’t help the situation. He tried to shake off the thoughts, originally dismissing them as just bad dreams, but they had become more frequent. He had intended to ask Virgil about them for days, but he couldn’t find the courage. In a way he felt that the fears in his dreams were ridiculous ones, and that he shouldn’t need help in getting over them. Glancing into the commons, Morality saw Anxiety sitting on the couch with his headphones on; knowing he was going to be all right for the time being, he would be able to do the dishes without too much worry for his youngest son.

When he finished, he joined the others in the living-room, each were focused on their own activities, but it was the darkest side that caught his attention. He looked as if he were asleep, an extremely uncommon occurrence to say the least, but Patton was just glad he was getting some rest after having stayed up the night before. His eyes drifted to Princey who was keeping his gaze glued to the television, quite clearly not wanting to upset the rest of them further as he watched _America's Got Talent_. Logic however, appeared more comfortable than he had at the table; sitting on the couch adjacent to his gloomier counterpart, and reading some book called _The Disappearing Spoon_.  Quietly, so not to disturb the others, the moral figment sat on the floor near Roman and watched a young girl win the Golden Buzzer.

About half-an-hour had passed when Virgil stood, making his way towards the stairs without a word to the others. “Where are you going kiddo?” There was no reply, but he father figure didn’t need the sense of perception the observant trait had, to notice the way he stumbled up the steps like he didn’t know where they were. “Son, are you okay?”

Again there was no response from him; but Logan, who had looked up from his book answered in a slightly befuddled tone, “I…I think he’s sleep-walking.”

The three remaining in the commons looked between one another, “he’s never done that before.” The moral aspect didn’t even attempt to keep the confusion he felt from seeping into his voice.

The scholar placed his novel on the end table before looking back towards the stairs, “how would we know? He hardly sleeps at all; so, the odds of us noticing at all are…well…infinitesimal.” Morality had to stop himself from giggling at his eldest son was finally being able to redeem himself by using the word correctly, but he seemed more focused and concerned with the disappearance of the other.

Standing, Patton looked back to the steps, “well kiddos, I think we need to watch over him so he doesn’t get hurt.” He noticed that the Prince hung his head, but neither brought attention to it, maybe Virgil had been telling the truth all along.

The three still present nodded in agreement, following the forth, together they made their way to the second-floor, to see if the stumbling about had woken Anxiety. When they reached the corridor, they were all shocked to see the door leading to the room of the sleeping facet was open. He never left it that way, originally because he didn’t want the others bothering him, but now it was for their safety, he kept it closed so that their curiosity wouldn’t lead them to the corner of the mindscape that would make them as anxious as he was. Even weirder was the dark persona himself, he moved about the hall as if he could see, and yet his eyes were closed. He held a small, black object close to his chest in such a way that Morality couldn’t figure out what it was, but before he could point it out, the voice of the fight-or-flight reflex rose into the quiet. “No no no! I have to fix this!” Even though his shoulders were relaxed from sleep, his voice was tinged with fear.

The others gazed at him for a moment longer before both Patton and Roman turned to face Logan. He apparently understood the unasked question, and formulated an answer, “it would seem that he is talking in his sleep as we-”

The intellectual was cut short by the negative archetype, “I have to get to the bottom of this before someone else gets hurt!”

“Someone else?” The lighter figment’s voice closely followed the exclamation, “what does he mean by that?”

The other two sides shrugged in defeat, Logic coming across as particularly wary. “This is my fault! Mine and mine alone…can’t you see that!” Virgil paused for a long moment, as if listening to some unseen individual, “I’m the fight-or-flight reflex! I have to be able to help the others when they are in danger! If I can’t do that…then what can I do?”

The happier character drew in a quick breath; his words hardly more than a whisper, “that’s almost exactly what he said to me last night when I went to confront him.”

He moved to help the usually observant trait, but was quickly stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he was the teacher shaking his head, “don’t…if we wake him, we run the risk of him hurting himself or one of us. Research shows that sleep-walkers have a tendency to react in extreme ways if woken during an episode.”

Their attention shifted back to Anxiety when his scared cry pierced the air again, rising even further with panic. “Please believe me, I know I should have told the others the truth last night but…I-I didn’t want to them to lose what little trust they have in me!”

Princey’s eyes burned with the same fury they had seen the night before and at the breakfast table, “I told you he pushed me!”

A stern glare from the parental aspect made him look away, “and I said no more accusations; besides, we don’t even know what he’s talking about.”

Logan’s eyes were trained on the object in the hands of the sleep-walking figure, “I think we are ignoring or unaware of two vital pieces of information. We know he’s dreaming, but who is he talking too, and why is he clutching that book?”

Apparently the second-eldest had figured out what he had been unable to, the object was a book. Then as if on cue, Virgil spoke again, a bit softer this time and with a tone of desperation. “No! That’s not true; I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt…I was trying to figure out this.” He held out the small book, “I-I was just trying to help…” He trailed off, as if the reply he received from the unheard source was a hurtful one, and held out the book almost like he was offering it to them. In the same moment the logical facet darted forward, now standing nearer to his anxious colleague than the other two. Gently he reached out and took the object from his hands, and for a moment they all stood in a terrified silence, waiting to see if the academic had awoken their friend. When there was no instantaneous reaction, Logic gently yet deftly moved back to the others, but as soon as he reached them, the darker embodiment breathed a few words. “I promise if you read that…everything will make sense…I should have told you sooner…I should have told them sooner too…but I was afraid.” He paused, and they thought that was all he had to say, but they were wrong. His voice rose up sounding more defeated this time, “what I was trying to do…I didn’t have Logan’s skill in deduction to figure it out, that’s why it took me so long. I didn’t have Roman’s creativity to come up with a better way of going along with my plan, and I don’t have Patton’s kindness and way with words….which is why I didn’t say anything when I should have.”

Each of them looked up in awe at their names followed by the compliments, Virgil knew better than any of them how important each of their individual contributions were, but something told Morality that he would never say it were he awake. Logic drew him from his thoughts as he addressed them, “something tells me that what happened last night will be explained by what this book holds.  More than that, I think it’s been going on for a lot longer than we have been aware, and whatever it is, Virgil believes it is an issue, because it seems to me that he has been trying to keep up with and fix it.” Once again he willed to go over and wake the youngest attribute, but he decided it would be best to heed the warning he had been given about doing so.

The Prince glanced to the other two, but still stood in a defensive position, casting glares to the now silent Anxiety, “so what do we do now?”

“We can't just leave Virgil alone up here; he could hurt himself with the way he’s walking around.” The moral side’s main fear was that he would fall down the stairs, just as Roman had the night before, but he made a point not to bring that up.

“Quite right, I suggest we stay here and watch over him, but if we want to know what is in this book, we should probably read it while he’s unconscious.” The intellectual’s words caused Patton to whip around and face him, shocked that he would come up with such an idea.

“Are you suggesting that we go through his personal belongings? I’m disappointed in you!” He had fully taken on the parental inflection as he said the words, this was a notebook that belonged to the gloomier trait, and whatever it held was his business. Asleep, and clearly dreaming that he had been backed into a metaphorical corner meant he wasn’t really in a situation where he may want them to read its contents. For all they knew, he could be dreaming about blue strawberries, and they would have no clue.

 Logan sighed, looking down at the object in his hands, “I don’t like the idea, but let’s look at the facts here, Virgil believes that something is seriously wrong, and we don’t know what it is. He said it himself, he wants to tell us but he’s afraid he’ll lose our trust, so we can't know when or if he will actually voice his concerns. It also sounds like he wasn’t talking to any of the three of us, he referenced that we are part of the issue, but he wasn’t talking directly to us. That leaves only one other that he could be talking to, Thomas. If he thinks something is severe enough to go directly to him…then I think we need to know what it is.”

Morality pondered the statement for a brief moment, “it sounded to me like Virgil was trying to defend himself, as if Thomas had confronted him. I’m not sure that gives us the right to look through the book.”

The logical aspect ran his fingers over the cover of the small object, “If the information was important enough that he would be pleading the way he is, do you really think Thomas would keep the issue from us? If we consider the facts of such concerns from the past, he has always summoned us to settle them, so why would it be any different now? That, and he all but just handed the book to us.”

“I…I think we should take a look,” the other two turned to face the Prince. “If it’s important, then we should know.”

“Oh alright,” Patton didn’t know if it was concern for Virgil, or sheer curiosity that made him cave in. He only hoped that he wouldn’t regret doing so after they read it.

Together the three of them moved to one end of the corridor, sitting against the wall, ready to stop Anxiety if he strayed too close to the stairs. When they had settled Logan; sitting between him and Roman flipped the book open, and what they saw left them all in a stunned silence. On the inside of the front cover were three lists, each headed by one of their names, all alike in nature but different at the same time. The top was his, next Logic’s, and at the bottom was Princey’s. In the lists were neatly-written words that Morality couldn’t even begin to pronounce followed by their definition, and every single one of them was a phobia of one type or another. A feeling of shame washed over him as he read his own list, not because he was reading it, but because Virgil had clearly noticed the fears, and thought it was his job to keep track of them, and each one of them was part of what the lighter facet had wanted to talk about with the younger for over a week. Stealing a quick look over at the two sitting to his left, they both seemed to be wearing variations of his own expression.

The scholar was the first to say anything, “h-how could he know all of this?” No one answered him, and instead they began looking through the pages.

Patton couldn’t keep track of the emotions he felt as they found in-depth records of their own sleep-walking and apparently sleep-talking habits. They all knew they had their nightmares, but what they hadn’t known was that they apparently vocalized them where Anxiety could hear. His logs of their episodes were extremely detailed, consisting not only of what they had said, but how they had moved through the hall, the date, and time in which each lapse had occurred. They all stayed quiet with the exception of the occasional gasp when an entry struck them personally.

Each time one of Roman’s spells was recounted, he seemed to sink further and further into himself until his angered voice asked a variation on Logan’s original question. “What gave him the right to listen to all of this?”

It was the factual personification, who rounded on him, “I doubt he had much of a choice. We all go to bed long before he does, and I think we can all pretty confidently assume that he doesn’t sleep at all most nights.” The fanciful side didn’t argue, he simply huffed and repositioned his injured arm.

They kept reading, and upon further inspection, Morality felt tears flood his eyes, after the logs there were pages and pages of techniques and tactics, ideas and concerns that he had written down. Virgil had apparently intended on speaking with them about it, because each set of pages was filled with ways to help diminish or eradicate the fears they had. Then on the last recorded page, there were a few words followed by a streak of ink that blotted the otherwise flawless paper, he turned to look at the Prince. “I guess he stopped writing when he saw you heading for the stairs.”

“Maybe if he hadn’t been writing, and was paying a little more attention, then I never would have fallen down them in the first place!” Roman came across as more worked up than usual, probably because he was unhappy with the thought of anyone else knowing about his fears.

Patton gave him a sympathetic look, “had it not been for him writing, he more than likely wouldn’t have been in the corridor at all…and no one may have known you were hurt until the next morning.” He gestured to the butterfly closure-strips that sealed the cut on the creative trait’s head. “That’s not to mention that he clearly recorded all of our movements, and none of us had ever gotten so close to the steps.”

“That may be the case, but his job is t-”

He was cut short by the Logic, who had a darker tone to his words than normal, “There is another few pages…”

As he trailed off, they all glanced back down at the book, when would he have had time to write anymore; none of them had gotten much sleep after the incident with Princey. What Morality saw pierced his heart with the same pain that an icy dagger may inflict, another list.

 

_ Virgil _

_- Monophobia / Autophobia – The fear of being alone or abandoned_

_- Erenophobia – The fear of loneliness _

_- Isolophobia – The fear of isolation or solitude_

_ -Atychiphobia _ _– The fear of being wrong_

_- Atelophobia – The fear of imperfection (pertaining to self and knowledge)_

_- Kakorrhaphophobia – The fear of failure_

_- Paralepophobia – The fear of neglecting responsibility (pertaining to not being able to keep others safe)_

_- Allodoxophobia – The fear of others opinions_

_- Athazagoreaphobia – The fear of being forgotten or ignored_

_- Acousticophobia – The fear of sounds (particularly loud ones, voices, and one’s own voice)_

_ -Anthropophobia _ _– The fear of people_

_- Agoraphobia – The fear of crowds_

_- Lalophobia – The fear of speaking_

_- Pistanthrophobia – The fear of being distrusted_

 

The list went on and on, and the hand-writing wasn’t nearly as neat as it had been when he recorded the logs of their sleep-walking episodes, almost like he had been shaking, and he had hadn’t he. Patton thought back to the state Virgil had been in when he’d left to go check on Roman, he had been on the brink of a panic-attack, and if he still thought that the fall was his fault. He held back a sob as he finally understood, unlike the documents for each of them, the one for the youngest aspect wasn’t written to be helpful, it was written for the sole purpose of self-deprecation. They continued to read over the phobias and fears that spanned over nearly ten pages, some of them had their technical names, others were just the description. The last line however, no matter what they thought of the previous entries, caused them to freeze in their tracks. _Overall anxiety, no cure. All other techniques and tactics listed to help are more than likely ridiculous and useless as well._ In that one sentence, he had managed to undermine and invalidate all of the work he had done and all the research he’d conducted. Morality had read over the ideas written to help him; all of them were good, and would possibly help him, and yet with the frame of mind he was in, the darkest facet had discredited himself.

The father figure couldn’t stand the looks that were being exchanged by the other two; and snatched the book from Logan’s hands as he got to his feet. He strode over to Virgil’s now open door, and placed the small book on the desk just inside the room before returning to them. They sat baffled by his sudden outburst, but stayed quiet as he spoke, “I understand that we needed to read over the logs, and I don’t think it was wrong; even if we aren’t happy with what they said. We have these dreams night after night, but we never speak a word of them during the waking hours. We all have fears and I think it has been made quite clear that none of us have had the time or courage to face them. We haven’t owned up to our own feelings and worries, and something tells me that none of us are even comfortable with the idea that we even have them, so let’s stop and consider something for a moment. Quite a bit of Virgil’s entire existence is dealing with fears, and the last few pages of that book proved to us that he knows about them and deals with them on a daily basis. In my opinion that makes him braver and stronger than any of us.” He saw Roman open his mouth to say something, but Patton stopped him with a glare, “now, I can condone us reading our own logs and lists, but that book _does_ belong to Virgil, and the last few pages were his own. We should have closed it the moment we realized what it was, but we were too curious to stop, and before you complain, I’m blaming myself as much as I am the two of you, but there is another thing you need to think about.” He paused, trying to keep his composure, “if you thought it wrong that Virgil overheard us in the night, I don’t see why, because one of us would have eventually. Before you say that he knew our fears, and therefore we should know his, consider that some of the first ones he listed for himself were just the same as our own. Now, what he was doing with that knowledge? He wasn’t using it to blackmail us or make fun of us; most of our own pages were filled with ways to _help_ us. His weren’t,” Morality noticed the dawning looks of realization in the others’ eyes, but he wasn’t finished yet, “I would be willing to bet that the reason those last few pages were written, was because of and during some form of a panic-attack, and that’s why he undermined his own work in the end. Next, I want you to think about what _you_ are going to do with what you have just learned. If you can honestly say that the first thought you had upon reading that list, was to help _him_ through those fears, then I can justify us reading them, but if not, I think it was a major invasion of his privacy.” Both of them looked at the floor, Logan straightened his tie and Roman picked at the carpet, but neither of them put forth a response. Patton just sighed, “back downstairs…both of you…you need to think over what I’ve just said, I’ll look after Virgil.” When they both stayed where they were, his disapproval began to boil into anger. “Now!”

At the change in his voice, the logical and creative sides scrambled to their feet, and darted back down to the commons, leaving the lighter trait with Anxiety. Despite the warning about how volatile sleep-walkers could be, he gently coaxed the youngest back to his room, making sure he got to bed. Placing a blanket around his shoulders, he checked the cuts that Princey had left on his face, only enforcing what he had said earlier about an apology. Once he had done that, he returned to the corridor, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him, before making his way back to the commons himself.

Virgil slowly lifted his head from the pillow, a moment later he shot upright, he didn’t remember going to bed, the only thing he could recall was putting his headphones on and curling up on the sofa in the living-room, so how had he ended up in his bed with a blanket tucked around him. A cold sense of dread washed over him, he had a feeling he knew exactly what had happened, he had begun sleep-walking, just like the others. He thought back to the dream he’d had, Thomas had been confronting him about that very issue, and so the darker aspect could only wonder what he had said in his own episode.

Evening had fallen, and it was about time for dinner, Patton would be setting the table downstairs, ready for the rest of them to join him. Anxiety couldn’t muster the courage to go down this time, without knowing what he had said or done, he had no way of judging the reactions the others would have. He pulled his knees to his chest at the mere thought, and rested his uninjured cheek on them, and with his head now turned to the side, his eyes locked on something that nearly sent him spiraling into a panic-attack. The black notebook, the one with all the logs and fears, it was resting on his desk as if he had left it there after an uneventful night, but he knew it shouldn’t be there. He looked over to the floor where it had landed in front of the closet after his fear-fueled rage, and sure enough it wasn’t there. Now only one question remained, how did the book get from the floor to his desk? His heart lurched as he realized there were only a few options, the first being that one of the others had retrieved it and placed it there, or worse, he had gotten it while sleep-walking as a part of his own fears. He wracked his mind for memories of the nightmare he’d had, but it was rapidly fading; he couldn’t remember if he had shown the book to Thomas or not.

No one else knew the book existed, so how could they have come to get it, the answer, they couldn’t. That left him with the one possibility he had hoped wasn’t true, he had gotten it himself. Virgil could feel the shaking in his hands and the increase in his heart-rate, what had he done, what had he said, what did the others now know? He didn’t have long to think about the question as a familiar tugging sensation at his shoulders told him that Thomas was summoning him. He considered not going, this was going to be his nightmare becoming a reality, but there was no running from it, he couldn’t avoid his host forever.

As quickly as he could, Anxiety took the small book and stuffed it into one of the pockets of his hoodie, he had a bad feeling that the reason they were being called was held in its pages. Checking his eye-shadow in the mirror, he let his eyes rest on the four long lacerations that crossed his face, how would he explain them to Thomas? The last thing he wanted to do at this point was lay blame, especially on Roman, he didn’t want to give the other facet more reason to hate him. He threw his hood over his face as he had before breakfast and synced into the real-world.

When he appeared, he was shocked to see that none of the others were present, glancing to his host, the dark persona saw how tired he looked. The feeling of dread intensified as his mind came up with the reason why he was the only one there, the others had already been questioned, and Thomas was tired because he was the last. As their gazes locked for a brief moment, Virgil could see the glimmer of concern behind the eyes of the online personality, which only served to make him feel worse.

“Virgil, I’m going to cut to the chase, since neither of us wants to talk about this. I’ve gotten three different stories already and I know we are both tired, so tell me this, what exactly happened last night?” His voice betrayed the fatigue he felt even further, and now the youngest side wondered what the others had said to him.

The fight-or-flight reflex looked to the floor, he couldn’t lie to his host, and he deserved to know the truth, even if it was his nightmare come to life. “As far as I know…I’ve been keeping track of the other three sides, trying to figure out exactly what it is that has been going on. They’ve all picked up the habit of sleep-walking and talking in the past few months…and now it looks like I have too.” His voice sounded even more dull and raspy than it had that morning, but he did nothing to fight it, “that doesn’t matter right now though…the point is I have been trying to figure out the cause of the new development, and it seems like each have been having their own nightmares about a particular thing. I-I was trying to listen to them and put a name to the fears so I could try and do something useful…to help them through it.” He paused for a moment, trying not to let the panic he felt bleed into his voice, “but I was so wrapped up…that I wasn’t able to do my job and keep the others safe. I noticed too late what was happening…and Roman fell down the stairs while he was sleep-walking…I’m pretty sure he thinks I pushed him, but I can promise you that I didn’t.”

Thomas was slow to reply, as if he were trying to decide what to address first about Virgil’s response, but when he did speak, there was an aura of sadness about him. “I believe you. You two may have had your differences, but I can’t see you intentionally pushing Princey down the stairs, then or now.” He stopped, taking a deep breath, “I’ve already told you that I have spoken with the others…Roman did seem furious about his injuries, but both Patton and Logan sounded a bit more concerned. All of them hinted at some sort of a book, but none of them would tell me what it said…in fact, they all acted almost afraid when I brought the subject up…do you want to tell me about it?”

The truth was Anxiety didn’t wasn’t to talk about the book, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but with such a direct question, he knew there was no way around it. “To some extent, I already have…the others have been plagued by these dreams…the same ones every night…coinciding with particular fears they have. To try and help them, I have been keeping logs of everything they did and said while they were sleep-walking; I have it all written down…here.” He handed it over, and part of him was glad he had brought the book, but he hated having to give it to him at all, what would Thomas think of the entries? Would he believe that Virgil had the best interests of the others at heart, or would he think the intended use was blackmail?

His host glanced down at the cover curiously before opening it, with a painstakingly slow pace he thumbed through the pages. The negative trait picked at the carpet, unwilling to see the expressions the YouTuber wore as he read. The seconds seemed to drag on, and after what felt like hours, he spoke again, “when were you planning on telling the others all of this?” Shock coursed through him as he realized there was no hint of anger or pity in the voice of his host, who had instead taken on a Logan-ish demeanor.

He waited for a few moments, trying to find the right words, “originally I had intended to tell them about it this morning, but after Roman fell, I couldn’t find the right time…or the courage to bring it up.”

Glancing up he saw the confusion that hung over Thomas like a storm cloud, “and yet you talk as if they already know?”

“I assume they do, you told me you had already spoken to them, each of them bringing up the book, and now I know I sleep-walk…because when I woke from a nap earlier, the book was not in the same place that I had left it. The only one who knew it existed before then was me…so; no one else could have retrieved it.” Anxiety placed his head in his hands, his next statement whispered to himself, “I can only guess I was sleep-talking as well…and who knows what I might have said when I was.”

His host was more perceptive than Virgil gave him credit for as he referred to what had been said under his breath, “I will say this, much like the book, the others did allude to you sleep-talking as well, but none of them would tell me what you said. Now I don’t know if they were embarrassed, or if they were trying to protect you, but from the sound of it, I know as little as you do.”

He looked up at Thomas with a start; none of the others had repeated what he’d said? “I don’t know about Logan and Patton, but if Roman didn’t say anything about it, it was probably for his own good.” He flinched as he saw the appalled look in the eyes of the online personality, “look, I know we’ve been on better terms recently, but with Roman thinking I pushed him down the stairs…well now he really has no reason to trust me.”

He nodded slowly but his expression changed back to a look of bewilderment, “you claim you didn’t push him though?”

The observant character chuckled half-heartedly, “do you believe me?”

Thomas took a step forward, and it was all he could do not to move away. “What do you mean, I told you at the start that I believed you…is it possible that you have gone over the situation so many times in your head that you blame yourself for what happened?”

Looking around to where the others usually stood, he knew he blamed himself, but was it not justified? Sure he hadn’t physically knocked his counterpart down the stairs, but he hadn’t been quick enough; he hadn’t been able to keep Princey from getting hurt. He felt tears spring into his eyes, he was supposed to keep the rest of the aspects safe, and he’d failed, so that did make the situation his fault. “I was watching over Roman…I should have seen what was happening, but I was so focused on that book! If I hadn’t, then he would have been fine…and he wouldn’t hate me.”

“You're jumping to a conclusion Virgil,” he didn’t dare lift his eyes when Thomas responded with a gentle tone. “Let me start with this, Roman doesn’t hate you, I think he was madder with himself for falling down the stairs than anything else, and it seemed like his anger was fueled by embarrassment, not hatred.” He faltered for a moment, making it feel like he was waiting for Anxiety to look up at him, but it wasn’t going to happen, so he continued anyway. “Listen, I know you think you have to, but there is no way for you to protect all of us, all the time. Look at what happened from what I’ve heard, you were focusing on the fears the others have to try and help them, and you didn’t notice Roman was so close to the stairs because none of them had ever strayed that close before. Even if you hadn’t been looking after them he would have fallen anyway, and it was thanks to you that anyone noticed he had. If you hadn’t been there, he may not have been found until morning.” The anxious facet couldn’t bring himself to lift his head, but he didn’t know if it was from shame, or to keep the marks on his face hidden. “Virge...I know you often see yourself as a bad thing, but I think you are leaving out many of the good characteristics you portray.”

He couldn’t help but scoff at the statement, other than fight-or-flight what good was there to him?  All he managed to do was mess everything up, “Like what?!” He couldn’t help the inflection of anger his voice took on. Drawing a sharp breath, he continued before Thomas had a chance, the fear and anguish he tried so hard to suppress pushing him onwards. “No matter what I do it’s always the wrong thing! If I’m the antagonist, no one wants me around, I try to leave and evade that problem, and suddenly everyone wants me to come back! I try to make amends with the others; I get blamed for something I didn’t do! I try to help them with their fears, the only thing I’m knowledgeable about, and I let one of the others get hurt! I-”

“Virgil! Stop!” He hadn’t noticed how quick his breathing had become until his host cut him off. He briefly let his eyes wander to his hands, seeing them shaking, he immediately shoved them in his pockets in an attempt to conceal it. “Virgil, you need to listen to me, whatever it is that you’re thinking right now, whatever it is that has you so worked up, you need to slow down and take a deep breath. I know this kind of self-deprecation all too well; you’re leading yourself into a panic-attack and you need to stop it.” Despite knowing that the nature of his concerns were true, he couldn’t stop the fear and self-hatred that burned within him like fire spreading through a forest. The online personality must have noticed Anxiety’s inability to speak seeing as he went on, “part of this whole situation is my fault, and I will be the first to admit that.” The gloomier attribute tried to voice his puzzlement, but anything he wanted to say got caught in his throat. “The first time you showed up, I labeled you _‘My Anxiety,’_ I never even gave you the chance to defend yourself against the claim. Even worse, I worked to combat you...it wasn’t until Logan claimed you were the antagonist in the _Losing My Motivation_ video that I realized it, and that was wrong of all of us, but especially me. I was the one working to improve the relations of the other three, and I didn’t even consider that you should be included in that for quite some time. There is no excuse for how long it took me to realize that you represent much more than just anxiety, and for that I apologize.”

“I know I’m your fight-or-flight reflex…we've been over this already,” he didn’t even try and struggle against the rasp in his voice from exhaustion.

“I think both you and I know there’s more to you than that.” The dark side let his shoulders fall in defeat, whatever his host was getting at, he certainly didn’t see it. “Perhaps you don’t...let me try to explain what _I_ see.” In the moments of agonizing silence that followed, he strongly considered syncing out in an attempt to avoid the conversation, but he knew if he did that Thomas would just call on one of the other sides to help find him. Unwillingly he stayed put, not lifting his tear-filled gaze as he waited for whatever would be said next. “Yes, you embody my anxiety and my fight-or-flight reflexes, but just like the others, there’s more to you. You notice many things that Roman, Patton, and Logan could never dream of seeing. If someone is fearful or feels out of place, you are the first to pick up on that, and you are honest with your opinions and statements. Since the others and I have accepted you, you have tried not to be so harsh, but you are still truthful. Then, despite your outward appearance, you do care for the all of us, and I know for a fact that you would defend any of us with your life if it was necessary. On top of that, you still try to find new ways to be helpful, like looking for a ways to assist the others with their fears even before they became apparent to anyone else.” The youngest personification didn’t know how to react; he wasn’t used to being praised. Actually the opposite was what he considered normal he was regularly shut down for anything he did. All of that still rushing though his mind, it was what Thomas said next that really caught him off guard. “All of these things are true when the ones in question are Patton, Logan, Roman, or I, but it seems like you lose sight of that when it comes to _yourself._ ” Virgil finally summoned the courage to look at his host, and was taken aback to see him sitting on the floor just a few steps below him. He’d been near the sofa when the conversation had started, and the negative trait had been so wrapped up in his own mind, his own worries and the words that were being said, that he hadn’t even noticed Thomas drawing nearer. “Virgil, everyone else has done all they can to accept you as part of this team…of this family, but none of us can do any more until you accept who you are and begin to see some of what we see in you.”

Anxiety hated the situation, he hated the words that had been spoken, but more than any of that, he hated himself for his reaction. He could feel his shoulders shaking and his breathing becoming more irregular even before the tears began falling to his shirt. He tried to hide the sudden change in his demeanor, but even if it was sudden to him, that didn’t appear to be the case for Thomas who was soon by his side, he turned his head away from his host as he moved closer. Thoughts raced though his mind at a rate in which he couldn’t keep up with and he was so focused on them, that his physical reaction took a backseat. From previous experience, he knew this wasn’t a panic-attack, his chest wasn’t tight enough, his breathing and heart-rate too slow, and this wasn’t fueled by fear and self-deprecation alone. He struggled to discern one emotion from another, sadness from fear, fear from anger, and anger from self-loathing, what was happening to him now was different from anything experienced in the past. He wasn’t having a panic-attack, he was having a complete emotional and mental-breakdown, and he didn’t have the first clue of how to stop it. Overloaded with thoughts and emotions, he did the one thing he wished he was able to avoid, but it was the only thing he was currently capable of, he gave in.

The tears that blurred Thomas’s silhouette stung as they ran across the marks on his face, but at the moment that was the least of his worries. _Why was this happening to him?_ He hated showing weakness to anyone, so why was he letting himself react this way? “Virgil…are you okay?” He barely managed to shake his head in response, and the next thing he knew, a pair of arms were wrapped around his shoulders. Normally he would have tried to pull away from such a gesture, but in this case he didn’t have the strength, and something small, deep within him, didn’t _want_ to. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, he returned Thomas’s embrace, and for once allowed someone else to help him as he fell to pieces.

The darker figure was hardly aware of the hushed words of comfort that were being spoken while he struggled to maintain a hold on what shreds of sanity he had left. The thought that he had just broken every resolve he’d ever made within himself only served to make things worse. He had finally shown his weaknesses and fears to Thomas, and moreover, himself. He had finally done the one thing he had never vowed to do because he had always been afraid that he would be mocked or betrayed, he placed his trust in someone else.

Anxiety had no idea how much time had passed before he could think with any sort of clarity, and as much as he disliked it, there was no taking back what had just happened. It sickened him to think that he would have to live with the memory, but he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, or he would fall back into the broken state he was trying to climb out of. Slowly he untangled himself from Thomas, leaning against the stair-rail, using the posts to brace himself. Even though it would do nothing to help his mental state, he couldn’t escape the shame he felt, and the sympathy that would surely follow.

His host must have understood, because he moved back to where he had previously been sitting at the base of the stairs, waiting until Virgil was able to collect himself enough to do anything. The two sat in a deafening silence for a few more moments before the online personality ventured to speak, “Virgil…I know you don’t like to show emotion to anyone, but choosing to trust me like this is a major step in the right direction.”

He pondered what had been said and the situation as a whole, had he really _chosen_ to trust Thomas? He didn’t feel as if he had had any control over his reactions, he had been so overwhelmed that it all felt forced. His reaction hadn’t been like his ducking out, revealing his name, or changing his outfit, he had been unable to do anything but give in. Suddenly, realization struck at him like lightning, there was one thing he had chosen to do, he had chosen to stay. In the past he would have fled, returning to the mindscape and the safety of his room as soon as he became aware that he would be unable to control his emotions. In this case however, instead of running away, he had remained where he was, almost longing for the support his host had given him, something he’d deprived himself of in the past. Perhaps, somewhere in his mind, he’d hoped it would help, and he had to admit, that in a way it did. “I-I guess you're right,” he struggled to find his voice. “Please don’t tell the others about any of this.”

The online personality actually cracked a smile, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” His face fell slightly, but he continued on, “now that you are in a better frame of mind, I think it’s time we brought the others in and settled this whole ordeal.” The gloomy aspect froze momentarily, unsure if he was ready to face them just yet, but he knew that the sooner the issue was resolved, the better off they all would be. Taking a deep breath to ground himself, he nodded reluctantly in agreement.

Thomas had just returned to his place when the logical, moral, and creative facets appeared. For the time being the tension that filled the air was almost palpable, only solidifying the claim their host had made, they had to do something to finally put this problem to rest. Before he even realized what he was doing, Virgil had analyzed all of the others’ expressions, glances, mannerisms, and movements; allowing him insight on how they all felt. Patton was clearly worried, judging by the way he shuffled his feet on the carpet and fidgeted with the sleeves of the hoodie around his shoulders. Logan came across as more uncomfortable, as if he knew what was to come, and was ready to deny every word of it. All of that was found from his overly-professional poise and the way he straightened his tie instead of his glasses. Roman’s reaction however, was the one that shocked him the most; he seemed to have an aura of shame about himself, something Anxiety had never sincerely sensed in him before. He refused to meet anyone’s gaze, instead keeping his eyes firmly locked on the floor, as if he hoped the carpet would envelope him, and remove him from the situation all together.

With his quick scope complete, the fight-or-flight reflex came to terms with the fact that he was going to have to be the first to speak. “I’m just going to go ahead and start, and say that I owe all of you an apology.” He pretended not to notice the shocked looks passed around by his colleagues, those expressions told him that they already knew why they had really been summoned. “I’ll tell you what I told Thomas, I have no idea what I said when I was sleep-walking, or what conclusions you all drew from that…but I should have talked to you sooner. I never meant for things to get this out of hand, but I didn’t have the skills necessary to work any faster than I did. I don’t have the capability of deductive reasoning, or ways to come up with a better idea than I already had before things started crumbling around me, if I did, then I probably would have been able to get to my answers quicker. Worst of all, I lacked the compassion…and still do, to make the situation any easier to deal with.” He let his eyes drift to the floor, “I was honestly trying to _help_ you guys with the fears that I discovered you all had by a complete accident. Please believe me when I say, that I never intended to use them against you…I know the power fear can have, and it is not pleasant, so I started working on a way to help all of you through it. I may not be the best one to come to for emotional support, but I am knowledgeable about fears, phobias, and anxiety.” The last word hung in the air before he continued, “I was trying to come up with techniques and tactics to help you improve on how you dealt with the nightmares, and the fears that fuel them. I really was trying to help…but I only ended up making the situation worse by allowing one of you to get hurt under my watch and-”

“Virgil,” he didn’t have the courage to pull his eyes from the floor when the Prince said his name. “Hey, Hot Topic…look at me.” Taking a deep breath, he kept his head lowered, but cast his gaze upwards, “I don’t want to admit it, but if there is anyone here who needs to apologize…it’s me. When I fell down those stairs, I was willing to blame anyone but myself… and when I saw you standing there,” he paused, fidgeting with his sash. “I lashed out on you…quite literally, when you were trying to help me. For that I apologize.”

Anxiety didn’t miss the glances of concern that Thomas gave the two of them, “lashed out?”

The fanciful embodiment gave him an awed look, “y-you didn’t tell him?! Why ever not? I deserve to be yelled at for what I did to you.”

The observant character sighed, “no you don’t, I know it must have looked bad from where you were.” He chuckled half-heartedly, “think about it, to randomly fall down the stairs, and then look up and see me standing there, I can understand why you though I pushed you.”

Roman appeared even more taken by surprise at his calm demeanor and consideration. “J-Just because I believed that you had acted violently gave me know right to do the same!”

Their host spoke again, more emphatically than before, “violently?! Roman…what did you do?”

The trait in question shared a glance with his darker counterpart, “just tell him and get it over with.”

He turned to Thomas; face still shrouded in the shadow cast by his hood, “before I show you anything, I want you to know that I don’t hold this against Roman.” The online personality nodded, and with that Virgil slowly lifted his head and pushed his hood back, revealing the four long lacerations that ran diagonally across his face. He resisted the urge to turn away at the sharp intake of breath from their host as he took a few paces forward. It took all of his strength not to move back when Thomas lifted his hand and gently ran his thumb across the longest mark that cut from the inner corner of his right eye, to the left side of his bottom jaw near his neck.

Anxiety lowered his head and the online personality returned to his place, but his eyes snapped back up at the tone of his voice, “Roman you s-”

“Thomas don’t…I told you, I don’t hold it against him, so neither should you.” He let his shoulders fall, “besides, there are more important things we need to talk about.”

He glared at the creative aspect before reluctantly shifting his attention to the topic at hand, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The figment dressed in black and purple was the one to clear the awkward silence, “I accept your apology Roman…and I hope you all can accept mine.”

Logic, who had stayed quiet now put forth his own input, “I believe that I speak for all of us when I say that you have nothing to apologize for.” The negative manifestation wanted to say something as the others nodded, but he didn’t have the chance before the intellectual continued, “that happenings of the last twenty-four hours have been nothing short of a disconnect on behalf of us all, and I think it is high time we got to the root of those issues.” He straightened his glasses, looking directly at him, “I will be the first to admit that I have been plagued by these dark dreams.” The youngest facet was in shock, not because he had been the first to speak, but because he had just claimed to be capable of perceiving human emotions such as fear. “Now, I know this is something you more than likely will not wish to hear, and none of us are keen on the idea of telling you either, but it must be said. You explained your end of the situation quite clearly when you were sleep-walking, and in doing so handed us that book to read over.” He suppressed a wince as the academic side gestured to the black object in Thomas’s hands, he had guessed that the others had read it, but now his suspicions had been confirmed. “I might add, even though this may be considered off topic; that the notes you kept were quite extensive and well-organized. I would appreciate it if you could find the time to discuss your methods with me in the future; they would be most helpful in my studies.” Anxiety merely nodded, not really sure of how to respond to the compliment. The intellectual looked at the floor before going on, “I will also be the first to state that my work has been made a bit more difficult from the restlessness that I have been experiencing. Therefore, I would appreciate your insight on the matter, if you are willing to speak with me about it that is.”

The statement the logical archetype made left Virgil speechless; the others had noticed their fears, and they did plague their thoughts during the waking hours. Part of him was also bewildered not only by the fact that he had been asked to help, but that he had been right in the first place, and was actually in a position to offer the assistance that was needed. Now that the second-eldest had asked however, he worried that fear or pride may cloud the judgment of the other two, and they may not be so willing to ask for his input.

Proving the observant persona wrong, Patton was the next to draw his attention, “first I want to apologize for going through your book kiddo, whether you handed to us or not, we shouldn’t have read it. You weren’t conscious, and that meant you weren’t actually giving us permission to look through it.” He played with his hoodie, his voice hesitant, “I would also like your help…”

“I’d like to get some of my fears out of the way as well, coming up with ideas is hard when you aren’t sleeping well.” Suddenly Princey’s voice changed from one filled with defeat to a slightly more humorous tone as he looked down to the sling that supported his arm, “Not falling down the stairs again would also be a bonus.” Anxiety was left dumbfounded; all of the others had accepted their fears, and more than that, they actually _wanted_ his help with them. Even after the events of the entire day prior, they still wanted to hear the advice he had to give. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that his work and effort was going to be put to a positive use after it had caused such destruction.

Thomas cleared his throat, pulling him from the thoughts that raced through his mind, “if you're going to help them, you’ll need this.” Next thing he knew he had the small, black notebook in his hands again, thumbing through it he half expected it to be blank; the whole situation a product of a dream of his own. When he opened the book however, there were the words he had written, neatly organized and color coded by the persona they were for.

Virgil lifted his head from his notes as Patton spoke up again, “so will you help us, kiddo?”

Suddenly he realized he hadn’t expressed to them that he was willing to help, “yeah of course.” He paused, closing the book and placing it back in his pocket, “for now though, it’s getting late, and I don’t think it’s going to help any of you sleep tonight if you start going over your fears now. You’d all be better off getting some rest and we’ll start on this tomorrow.”

They all nodded in agreement, all but Roman who was glaring at him playfully, “only if you promise to stop me from falling down the stairs again, Hot Topic.”

Anxiety genuinely laughed, “never going to let me live that down are you, Sir Sing-a-Lot?”

“Not a chance.”

That night the youngest trait was ready to watch over the others, similar to the way he had been for weeks, but this time he wouldn’t be keeping notes.  He sat in the hall, headphones on, and eyes scanning the area for any sign of the others’ sleep-walking habits, ready for the moment he may have to jump into action. He already had the information he needed, so now he could pay more attention to his job of keeping the others safe.

His head whipped to the side as he saw the moral aspect walk aimlessly from his room, removing his headphones, Virgil could hear his voice. Instinctually he reached for a pen before remembering it was unnecessary, and when the lighter of the two got a little too close to the stairs for his comfort, he got up and walked over. With a gentle hand on each shoulder, he slowly coaxed his friend back into his corner of the mind-palace.

As he tucked the covers around the parental facet, his eyes flickered open and he spoke voice slurred from sleep, “Virgil…what are you doing in here?”

He smiled and answered with the same soft tone, “my job, now go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay…g’night Virgi-” with the last threads of consciousness slipping from his grasp, the darker of the two laughed silently as the other was unable to even finish saying his name.

“Goodnight, Dad,” he quietly made his way out of the room and back to his place in the corridor.

Over the course of the night the other two got up, but never strayed far from the thresholds to their corners of the mindscape. Glancing at his phone, the time read five fifty-six, Patton would wake in promptly four minutes to begin breakfast, and the others would follow soon after. Anxiety’s job was over for the night, and he had a few hours to finalize his notes before he would start his work with the others. Casting a final scope around the hall, he went back to his room, retrieving the small notebook, pens, paper and three binders. If he was going to help the rest of the sides, he was going to prove to them that he was taking their fears seriously. Splitting the stack of paper into thirds, he placed each section in its respective binder, promptly labeling each one with a name.

A feeling of serenity came over him as he began copying the entries, notes, tactics, and techniques; fears, phobias, and ways to work with them onto the notebook paper. Writing with color-coding, bullet-points, and lists; he swiftly came up with more ideas to fit each personality, and scripts of what he would say to each of them. A smile graced his cheeks as he placed an object of significance in each binder as a sort of gift to the rest of them. The negative embodiment sighed, leaning back in his chair when he finished writing, more would surely follow in the future as techniques were discarded or proven not to work, but it was a good start. Looking over what he had done, he was beginning to understand why the logical trait had wanted to know his note taking strategies; everything was organized down to the smallest detail.

Knocking rang through the room, pulling him from his thoughts, breakfast must be ready, and a glance at the clock proved him right. He had been working for two-and-a-half hours, and only then did he realize how much his hand was cramping from holding pen after pen. Throwing his hoodie around his shoulders, the observant attribute wondered how an action that had been so strenuous only a day ago, could lose the weight it bore so easily. Quickly touching up his eye-shadow, he didn’t even notice the marks on his face before making his way to the kitchen. The smell of bacon, which mingled with other scents, reached him the moment he stepped through his door, betraying what the fatherly figure had made for them.

Logan’s voice stopped him about halfway down the hall, “good morning Virgil, I trust that your night went well. Are you ready with the endeavors you have for us all today?”

Nervousness came over him for a few seconds; would the others think as highly of what he had done as he did? He shook his head, clearing away the worries, the others had asked for his help and he had done his best, which was all anyone could ask for. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I have things lined up that will help with the nightmares more than you might think.”

The scholar nodded once, “in that case I look forward to it, you understand fears better than the rest of us, so I can't think of anyone more qualified to help us with them.” He glanced over to the stairs, “now, we’d best get downstairs or our food will be cold.”

Logic rolled his eyes, clearly displeased by the lights and hyper-personality of the moral aspect that was being displayed so early. “Morning kiddos,” the kindest of the three facets placed cups of coffee on the table before them once they had taken their seats. Anxiety smiled slightly, taking a sip of his, it was perfect as always. Sweetened and warmed to just the right point with just a dash of vanilla creamer to give it a bit more flavor. “How are you two this morning?”

He sounded a bit too upbeat, as if he was using cheer to mask something else, but he didn’t have much time to think it over when the intellectual, who kept his eyes trained on his own caffeinated beverage responded, “my night was satisfactory; therefore, my morning is off to a pleasant start.”

Virgil nodded in agreement, “my night went well…I’ve been a bit busy this morning, but it’s all chill.”

Patton gave him an odd look, and he began to wonder if he had done something wrong, “I-I can't tell if what I’m thinking of is a dream or a memory.” He appeared thoughtful while placing the silverware on the table, “I thought I saw you in my room last night son, but maybe I was just dreaming.”

Grateful that he hadn’t managed to upset the eldest, he took another sip of his coffee before replying, “no, you saw me. I walked you back to your room after you got a bit too close to the stairs for my liking.” The youngest character looked over to the steps, holding up three fingers where the others could see them. Confusion filled their gazes as he put one down with each second that passed.

The same moment he lowered his hand all together, Roman’s playful scolding could be heard from the second-floor. “Oh, so you can keep Patton from falling, but not me, I see how it is.”

He laughed along with the moral and anxious sides, joining them in the kitchen; Logan merely smirked and shook his head at them. The meal began almost immediately, with all of them taking part in their usual banter. The whole morning, if the darkest of the four wasn’t laughing, he was smiling in some way, but he knew that they would soon need to get down to business.

Clearing his throat, he began in a reserved tone, “I’m going to assume that you three want me to talk with you individually. That being said, I need to know which one of you I’m going to be working with first.”

The others looked at one another nervously, but the academic stepped up, “since Patton will be doing the dishes, and Roman has expressed that he does most of his brainstorming in the morning, I shall go first.” His stiff movements were just one of the indicators of his discomfort with the idea, but Anxiety had already accounted for that.

“Okay, I need to get my notes, and then I’ll join you in the library,” Logic nodded as his comparatively-negative counterpart began making his way back to his room. They wouldn’t know it, but Virgil had set it up so that he would be counseling each of them in a place, other than their rooms in which they felt most comfortable. The setting would make them more at ease, and would create an atmosphere that allowed them to talk as they normally would.

A few minutes later, binder in hand, he was passing shelf after shelf, each one filled with more books than he could count, to get to the seating area where the rational trait would be waiting. He almost got lost traversing the silent and extensive isles of which he was less accustomed than he had previously believed. Certain he had made multiple wrong turns along the way; he eventually found the place where he was to meet up with the scholar.

The analytical aspect sat in one of the plush chairs that were separated by a small table, and in front of them were ottomans on which to rest their feet. Then off to one side there was a fireplace that cast shadows around the room which shifted gently as the flames flickered. The fight-or-flight reflex knew that his appearance was often startling, due to his quiet nature, so he pretended to cough as to alert the other of his presence before rounding the corner.

Logan glanced up as the darker of the two walked over, sitting down in the free chair, “I’m assuming from your time of arrival, that you struggled to find your way through the library. Am I correct?” He sometimes forgot that through deduction, the second-eldest was almost as poignant as he was.

The youngest shrugged, placing the binder in his lap, but left it closed for the time being, he had an idea on how to bring up the issues naturally. “It’s like a maze in here to me…I’m lucky I didn’t get lost.”

His friend was completely oblivious to the metaphorical trail of bread crumbs being left for him to follow. “I can show you the most direct route to the main corridor when we leave.”

Placing his feet on one of the ottomans, Virgil smiled, looking around the space they were in, “thanks. Just out of curiosity, why do you like this room so much?”

The logical embodiment was quiet for a while, glancing around the room for the answers he wanted, “other than the enjoyment I find from reading, it is comforting to be surrounded by books and to be able to work undisturbed here. The fire keeps it warm, the seating is ideal…” He trailed off briefly, “and books aren’t watching your every word and movement, waiting for you to make a mistake. More often than not, they are correct and have less of an opportunity to be swayed by emotions.”

The second half of his statement held a sense of longing, which was the tread the gloomier personification was hoping for. He could use that to get closer to the worries Logic had without him shutting down at the topic of his fears. “What’s one of your favorite books, other than _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd_ , since I already know that one?”

“Hmm, a second-favorite novel,” he had a distant look in his eyes while considering the possibilities. “Even though it is not a singular book, I suppose it would have to be the _Lord of the Rings_ by _J.R.R. Tolkien_.”

Anxiety was surprised that he had chosen a fantasy genre book over something in the vein of _Sherlock Holmes_. “Could you go get the first book for me, I’ve been thinking of reading that series after I finish _Harry Potter_.” The claim wasn’t entirely a lie, but he had a different intention for the book once it was in his possession.

“Sure,” Logan stood without question and strode over to one of the shelves that lined the walls of the room. He returned with a good, but well-read copy of the first story, “here you are, _Fellowship of the Ring_ , the first book of the trilogy.”

He accepted the object gently into his hands before the factual character took his place in the adjacent chair. Looking over it more closely, the observant facet could see the cracks down the spine of the paperback, the creased and yellowing pages, as well as the fading colors of the cover. He had to stop himself from smiling; the book held all the features he needed to make his case, “so Logan, when I hold this book up, what are your first thoughts about it?”

He looked a tad confused, but answered all the same, “it is a highly-acclaimed and well-written novel by a world-renowned author…why do you ask?”

The darkly-dressed attribute began thumbing through the pages, “is there anything about this book that is off-putting or unreadable?”

 “Of course not,” Virgil lifted an eyebrow at the emphatic statement.

“Really, because it has obviously been read many times, and is far from perfect condition.”

The academic trained his eyes on the novel, “well yes. While a book is to be handled with care, it is also meant to be read; therefore a bit of wear is to be expected.”

Looking up, he watched the other closely as he spoke, “does the wear and tear make the story fail to live up to what it is claimed to be, or change the context of the writing?”

The teacher was yet to catch on to what he was getting at, “why would it, a few flaws in its physical features don’t change the value of the fictional writings it holds. I would have thought that was obvious.”

“So would I,” Anxiety put the book down and replaced it with the binder.

“I am not sure I follow,” even though he sounded fairly confident, he looked over to the notes the younger had with an aura of nervousness around him.

“This whole time I have been asking you questions about this book, and you have yet to pick up on the fact that I have addressed half of your fears already.” He handed his friend a copy of his notes, “fears; being wrong, imperfection pertaining to knowledge or calculations, failure, and neglecting responsibility.”

“I still don’t see how this relates to the book,” Something told the negative side that he did know what the connection was; he just didn’t want to address it.

“Let me put it this way, the book has imperfections, but does it wrongly tell, or fail to tell the story written in it?” He picked up a pen ready to write whatever response he was given.

“No it doesn’t, it still tells the story quite clearly,” the darker trait could feel the discomfort of his friend while he jotted down his notes.

“Therefore it’s not disregarding its one job which is to tell the story and be read, so while it has imperfections it is still capable of doing all the things it’s supposed to.” Virgil smiled slightly, “what can we infer from that?”

“That the book is still just a book with a few flaws; I fail to see the relevance.”

“Logan, your fears are having too much of an effect on you right now which is leading you to the sleep-walking and talking, so this is what I propose; think you yourself like you think of this book. You have flaws sure, but you are the smartest of all of us, those flaws don’t make you wrong or a failure, and you would never sit idly by when there is work to done, just as this book will continue to tell its story despite its creases and wear.” The aspect in question blinked at him in surprise at the analogy.

“Yes…but the imperfections are still there, and in my case…that could have severe implications on you, Thomas, or the others.” Anxiety didn’t miss the way the paper fluttered in Logic’s hands from his shaking.

“Okay, have you in all the books and articles you’ve read ever finished a line, gone to read the next and accidentally begun the same line again?”

The breathing of the other followed the same pattern of fear that the youngest was accustomed with; clearly the speaking of imperfections was putting him on edge. He wouldn’t have though that the intellectual would need it, but he started adding breathing techniques to the list of tactics to help with his phobias. “Y-Yes many times in fact.”

“When you do that you don’t just read the same line again, you course correct and read the next line,” He paused, choosing his words carefully, “when it comes to imperfections in your calculations or knowledge, which from what I’ve seen is rare at the worst of times, you do the same. You notice almost immediately when you’ve made a mistake, and you go back and fix it before it has a chance to impact anyone else, and you don’t make that same mistake again, you learn from it. Imperfections are a part of life, but one that you can work through, and the only thing keeping you from that is the lack of trust in yourself that the fears are causing. In the future if you make a mistake, you need to come to terms with the fact that it’s not the end of the world and trust yourself enough to know that you can mend it and keep going.” Virgil looked back to his binder, pulling a sheet of paper from it, “this is a list of techniques for you to use. Some of them, like taking short breaks and finding activities that are calming to you, are for when you are stressed. Others are for when you feel overwhelmed, such as the breathing and grounding techniques. I suggest setting up some kind of schedule for those, for example use one every time you glance at the clock or when you flip to a new sheet of paper while working. Then keep the tactics that work and discard the ones that don’t.” He handed a copy of the list to Logan, but it was clear he was still shaking, “okay, you're still worked up, so try this. List five things you can _see_ , four you can _hear_ , three you can _touch_ , two you can _smell_ , and one you can _taste_.”

The still-panicked rational facet whipped his head from side to side as he began the exercise, “five things I can see; books…chairs…fireplace…carpet…and shelves. F-Four things I can hear; my voice…the wind outside…the fire crackling…and you tapping your pen,” Anxiety hadn’t even realized he was doing that last one, but it still counted. “Three things I can touch; the paper…my glasses…and the chair.” His voice was becoming steadier as he went on, “two things I can smell; the smoke from the fire…and new books. Finally one thing I can taste; my coffee,” the darker figure smiled as he took a sip from his drink. Logic took a deep breath and held up his hand, it was nearly still now, “It worked. Pray tell, how does that work?”

The negative side gestured to the list, “it’s a grounding technique. Using each of your senses one at a time lets you focus on that and only that. It helps to slow your breathing and your thoughts, making you more aware of what you are doing, and therefore works to calm you down. Saying the items out loud works best, but saying them in your head can be helpful too.”

“Thank you Virgil…I think this may be quite useful,” the scholar came across as a bit sheepish, but that much was expected.

“No problem buddy,” he looked down at the binder, “there is one more thing.” He pulled a folder from one of its pockets and handed it to Logic, “Those are the detailed instructions on my note-taking that you wanted.”

He flipped it opened and scanned through the pages, “thank you, this will be most helpful.”

“Anything to lower the stress of your work,” Logan gazed up at him, understanding dawning in his eyes while the other smiled knowingly. “Anyway…you promised to help me find my way out of here.”

“Yes, of course,” the two stood and walked in a comfortable silence through the labyrinth that made up the library.

When they reached the corridor the analytical trait spoke up once more, “Here you are…er…if it were to become necessary, could I seek out your assistance with these fears again in the future?”

Anxiety chuckled, “sure, just let me know.”

“Thank you again Virgil. That was a lot less strenuous than I thought it was going to be,” the intellectual dipped his head in gratitude to the other.

“No worries, I’ve found that a place where someone feels comfortable, and finding a way to make the conversation flow naturally can help a lot, that being said I’ll see you at dinner Logan.”

With slight motions to signal goodbye, the younger of the two headed for his room to drop off Logic’s binder. In a way he was shocked that things had gone as well as they did, he had honestly expected the situation be harder on him. As he opened the door he shook his head, he couldn’t allow himself to become complacent, there was still a lot of work to do, and next he would be counseling the more emotional two. Either way he couldn’t get rid of the warm feeling he had, not only had he been able to help the factual aspect, but he had asked if he could seek his advice again in the future if he needed to. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, it was time to go see which of the other two he would be working with next. When he made his way into the commons, he couldn’t help but notice that Princey was the only one present.

The one in question glanced up as he entered the room, “hey Virge, did things go well with Logan?”

“It went better than I thought it would…granted, it was Logan, so there weren’t too many things that could have gone wrong,” he leaned against the stair-rail as he said the words.

The fanciful facet gave him a disapproving look, “don’t discredit yourself, Hot Topic. I’m sure you put in a lot of hard work to find different ways to help all of us with our fears.”

The gloomier figment shrugged, “I guess, but it wasn’t that hard, I just happen to be knowledgeable on the subject.” He glanced around the room, “I’m guessing that you're going next since I don’t see Patton anywhere nearby.”

The Prince seemed apprehensive but spoke as clearly as ever, “I suppose so; I think Patton is doing laundry right now.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “between you and me, I think he is more nervous about talking with you than either Logan or I were.”

Virgil was a more than a bit taken aback by the claim and softened his voice to the same level as Roman’s, “Really? He is usually so open to us helping one another; I wouldn’t have expected him to be so freaked out about it.”

“I would have thought so too, but he has been elusive today, anytime I see him, he claims he’s too busy with chores to stop and talk. I think he’s using them as an excuse to keep himself occupied.” The creative persona had no reason to lie, but why would the father figure be so worried?

Anxiety brushed it off for the time being, he would work with Morality soon enough, but right now his focus needed to be on Princey. “I’ll talk to him later, as for you, let me go grab my notes and then I’ll meet you in the screening room.”

Thankfully the negative character didn’t have as much trouble finding the screening room as he had to the library’s seating-area. This time however, the side he was supposed to be helping was more than likely _fashionably_ late. Knowing that Roman was going to be harder to get through to than Logan, the darker trait pulled his phone from his pocket and connected it wirelessly to the speakers. With a few taps on the screen, he pulled up a playlist he had created of softer show-tune waltzes, and more mellow Disney songs, playing them at an almost inaudible volume.

Just as he put the device back in his pocket, the Prince rushed in, “sorry I’m late!”

“Sit down, Sir Sing-a-Lot,” both of them chuckled at the name, clearing some of the tension from the air.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but his more-energetic counterpart beat him to it, “before you start on whatever speech you have planned, I have a few things I want to say.” Anxiety stayed silent and gestured for him to go on, “firstly, we haven’t spoken, just the two of us, since I fell down the stairs. That being said, without the pressure or influence of the others, I wanted to apologize to you again for the way I lashed out on you, no matter the circumstances, my actions were entirely unacceptable.”

“I told you before, that I don’t hold that against you, and I stand by that.” His words were true, though he couldn’t help but notice that the Prince had just addressed both his fears of _imperfection and opinions_ without Virgil having to lead into the conversation. Aware that fears often required reassurance, he spoke again, “if it will make you feel better, I accept your apology.”

He sighed in relief, “thanks Virge…next, I want to thank you…I know that we haven’t been on the best of terms with each other in the past, but you're still willing to help me…and I appreciate that.”

The comment took the younger of the two by surprise, he hadn’t expected praise from the imaginative aspect, especially not before he had even started. “Y-You're welcome I guess…but I haven’t actually done anything yet.”

“I know, but you still agreed to help me, even when you didn’t have to…so thanks for that.” He was sheepish, but the fight-or-flight reflex suddenly realized that it was his third fear talking, being forgotten or ignored.

“Roman I’m going to knock out two birds with one stone here, you may not even know it, but you are thanking me for the same reason that you just apologized. If I’m right, because you lashed out on me, you expected me not to help you. Now be honest not just with me, but yourself as well, am I right?”

The fanciful manifestation looked at him with wide eyes, “how did you figure all of that out from two entirely unrelated statements?”

He actually gave Princey a genuine smile, a rare gesture to him, for fear of his picture being taken if he did so, “because you just did half of my job for me. In apologizing, you faced your fears of imperfection and opinions. Then by thanking me you brought up your fear, specifically of being ignored, but also forgotten.”

He stared at the observant facet, “I- I did- I mean- wh- how?”

“I’m going to act like I just understood anything you just said and continue.” He paused briefly, opening the binder, “like I said; you might not even realize you did this. By apologizing, again after I had already accepted your previous apology, you proved to me that you were afraid of the opinion I may have still held against you. You also addressed your fear of being imperfect by apologizing for an action of yours that you saw as wrong or unjust. Then you got to the fear that I thought I was going to have the hardest time bringing up by thanking me. You were scared that I wouldn’t help you because of the ordeal from the other night, so you were afraid that I was going to ignore you.” It wasn’t lost on Anxiety, that these were issues that were similar to the ones he had gone over with Thomas the night before.

The whimsical emotion blinked at him, momentarily silenced by awe. “When did you become a psychic?”

“When you guys started sleep-talking, you seem to forget that I have extensive notes on how you spoke and acted during those episodes.” He gave the older a knowing yet saddened look.

“Touché, _Logan_ ,” they both allowed themselves to lapse into laughter for a bit at the light-hearted insult.

When they regained their bearings, the negative embodiment went back to the reason they were there, “seriously though, through those two comments, you not only accepted but began to face your fears. In terms of the help you need with them, you're already miles ahead of the others. Flipping pages in the binder, he began crossing out topics and techniques that had already been proved unnecessary, eventually he pulled out a sheet and handed it to Roman. “You enjoy singing and acting, so I tried to incorporate that into some of the techniques and coping mechanisms for you to work on. For example, and I’ll tell you from experience, don’t use this one if you're already panicking, but if you're not sure of an opinion or reaction one of us has, act like us for a bit. Momentarily put yourself into our headspace and try to think like us, you know us well enough that you should be able to draw the correct conclusion from your interpretation of our personalities. If that doesn’t work or you find yourself too worked up to safely believe that you are right, do what you did when we started talking. Pull us to the side in a one-on-one environment and ask us about whatever it is that’s worrying you. I know that I wouldn’t be offended if you did, and I’m pretty sure the others wouldn’t be either. As for imperfections, one of the key things to keep in mind is that no one is perfect, trust me I know that sounds cliché, but it does help. You can also think of it this way, sure you made a mistake, but now you can say you learned from it, and you won't make the same one again, or you could think of a mistake that one of us has made in the past.”

The Prince had an aura of confusion about him, almost as if he were hesitant, “could you give me an example?”

If it weren’t for the sincerity in his tone, Virgil would have thought Roman was messing with him, but he seemed genuine. “An example of a mistake I’ve made is obvious…me trying to leave and quit my job as _Anxiety_.”

The visionary side caught on quickly to what he had just made the anxious trait say, “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to bring that up again, I know you regret that- I mean- I- I’m just going to stop talking now.”

“Don’t worry about it, I know now that I’m needed, and that’s all that matters; I’m not going anywhere. It’s an extreme example, but it just goes to show that I learned from my mistake, so you can learn from yours as well.”

Princey was clearly calmed by the gentle yet confident way in which he said the words, but there were things he still didn’t understand, and his next question proved Anxiety’s suspicions correct. “Okay, so I get how I need to work on my fears and everything, but there is one thing I don’t get. How is this supposed to help the sleep-walking?”

The darker aspect was wondering which of the others was going to ask him that, “the somnambulism-” He changed course at the confused look in his friend’s eyes, “the sleep-walking isn’t going to go away overnight, but as you work through the fears, the nightmares won't plague you as much. That will make it so that you aren’t as restless and are less likely to get up and move around while you sleep. Until then however, I will be keeping watch over you guys to make sure that there are no more injuries.”

He seemed satisfied with the response, “good, because I do not want to fall down the stairs again.”

The negative facet smiled, “trust me I’m not going to let you or anyone else fall down the stairs again.”

There was a lull in the conversation, and the Prince looked at him astounded, “how long have there been show-tunes playing in the background?”

Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, “since before you ran into the room. Just like how I met with Logan in the library, so that he would feel more comfortable with the situation,” he pulled his phone from the pocket that held it. “I put on a playlist of show-tune waltzes and quieter _Disney_ songs to make you feel more at ease.”

Touched by the small gesture he came to an apparent revelation, “that’s why I felt less nervous after I walked in.” He fell silent for a moment, listening to the music, so the fight-or-flight reflex turned up the volume slightly. “This…this is _The Carousel Waltz_ by…by…I am ashamed that I can't think of the composers’ names.”

He answered before he knew what he was even doing, “it’s _Richard Rogers_ and _Oscar Hammerstein II_ ; they also did compositions for _Flower Drum Song_ , _The King and I_ , _South Pacific_ , and a range of others.”

“That’s it!” Roman took on an incredulous inflection, “since when do you know so much about musicals and Broadway?”

The observant persona listened to the piece for a while longer before replying, “just like with _Disney_ , I too am a Broadway fan.”

“You?” The Prince sounded pleased as opposed to the mocking tone he’d had in the _Dark Side of Disney_ video. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, what is your favorite musical? What’s your favorite song?”

He was taken aback not only by the barrage of questions, but also from the positive nature of the conversation that differed so much from the similar one they had had previously. He was actually quite pleased that they had both grown up to the point that he could have such a discussion with someone, who at one time had been his enemy. “Well, my favorite musical is _The Sound of Music_. I didn’t say it then, but I actually caught on to the name you called me at breakfast yesterday, it was pretty clever… _‘Captain Von Snapp’_ was it?”

Princey turned bright red, “y-you knew what that was from?” The embarrassment he felt was thankfully quickly replaced by excitement, “never mind, that is a brilliant movie, why is it your favorite though?”

He gave the other a playful grin, and impersonated his over the top reaction from the _Disney_ video, “ _because Julie Andrews is a beautiful goddess and because I can…o-okay_!” They were laughing so hard that Virgil barely managed to choke out the last word. When they finally recovered from the near hysteria, he gave his more honest answer, “while _Julie Andrews_ is amazing in the role, I’ve always liked the movie. I guess if I had to come up with a reason, other than the music, it would have to be how the children bond with _Maria_ , even though they were against her in the beginning.” The fanciful character caught on to the deeper meaning in the words, but stayed silent on the matter as he continued, “as for my favorite song? I know it’s unexpected, but _‘Edelweiss’_ is a really good one. From other movies, I also enjoy _‘Wouldn’t It Be Loverly’_ from _‘My Fair Lady’_ , _‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’_ from _‘Carousel’_.” He stopped, debating whether or not the next counted, but decided it did, “as for my real favorite it’s actually _Disney_ … _‘Feed the Birds’_ from _‘Mary Poppins’_.”

“I never would have guessed that you liked those songs, they’re mostly waltzes…I’ve never heard you listening to them before.” He came across as inquisitive as if genuinely curious as to why he had never heard the songs coming from Anxiety’s room.

“They aren’t exactly loud in comparison to some of the rock music I listen to…and to be honest, I knew if anyone heard me listening to them, it would draw attention.” He knew the reason was stupid, but it was the truth.

Roman smiled understandingly, “wouldn’t want that would we? Anyway, you must join me one evening to watch some of these movies! I’ll make up an excuse for the others as to what you're doing.”

The darker side didn’t notice until the offer was made, that he did in fact like the idea of having movie nights. He was tired of listening to the beautiful musicals at such low volume so as not to alert the others to what he was watching. It would also give him something to do, and he would finally have something, other than fears in common with his imaginative counterpart. “I might just take you up on that offer,” he pulled a small case from his binder, “and we can start with this one.”

Princey took the object that was offered to him, a dopy grin playing on his face, “this is _‘West Side Story’_ …one of _my_ favorites.” He looked up at the negative trait with tears in his eyes, “I broke my DVD about a month ago, and I was so disappointed that I didn’t have this movie anymore…how did you know?”

“You said you can hear music coming from my room, well I can hear music coming for yours too. You would watch that movie every few nights, and suddenly I stopped hearing it all together…I’ll admit I was a bit disappointed by that myself, and then, a few days later, I saw the case and the shattered disk in the trash. I was going to wait to give this to you until your birthday, but I know that a musical can help my mental state, so I figured it would more than likely do the same for you.”

The whimsical aspect pulled him into a hug, something he hadn’t expected, “thank you so much, Virgil.” He released the younger facet, who promptly straightened his hoodie around his shoulders. “It means a lot that you noticed and did this for me. We must watch it together one night this week, no excuses!”

“No problem buddy, and I’m looking forward to it, just tell me when; I’ll bring the popcorn.” He suspected that the Prince would have been clapping in excitement if it weren’t for his sprained wrist. The gloomier embodiment allowed himself, for just a moment, to indulge in the sense of joy he so rarely felt, but both of them were caught off guard by the familiar tugging sensation that meant Thomas was summoning them.

He immediately began to worry, their host knew that they were going to be working on the nightmares today, and had promised not to disturb them. What could be so important, that he would go back on his word, and call them to the real-world anyway? What was wrong? The two shared a brief, but concerned glance before syncing out of the mind-palace.

When they appeared, Logic was already there, but what shocked them all was the presence of Joan and Talyn. They were almost never called upon when Thomas’s friends were around, but both wore expressions reflecting worry and pain. They almost looked relieved when the sides showed up.

Before they could say anything, it was Thomas who spoke in a mocking tone, “well if it isn’t _Over-Reaction_ and _Disillusion_ coming to join _Mr. Cold-Hearted_ over there.” They were all left speechless from the insults the online personality spat at them so easily.

“Thomas!” Talyn looked horrified as they expressed what the others were unable to, “what has gotten into you?”

As the two continued to bicker, Joan moved to address the traits, “he’s been acting like this since we got here, and we don’t know what’s wrong with him. We thought you guys might know, or be able to figure something out.”

The intellectual glanced from Joan to Thomas and back again, “so you and Talyn summoned us? I didn’t even know that was possible, how did you manage it?”

Roman’s voice was the next to rise into the air, it had lost any sense of laughter it had had only moments ago, “I think we've got more important things to worry about right now.”

“Yes we summoned you, but we were trying to call all of you…where’s Patton?” When Joan said the name, all of them looked to where the moral aspect usually stood, and dread fell across Anxiety as if someone had draped a cold washcloth on the back of his neck. His mind began racing a mile-a-minute, where was he? If they had all been summoned, then why wasn’t he here with them? He would be the one capable of reprimanding their host for his actions and helping him to see a better path.

His thoughts were cut short at the sound of Talyn yelling, “fine then!” They walked over to Joan, who pulled them into an embrace, and that’s when he noticed the tears in their eyes. Talyn had always been the sweetest and most understanding of Thomas’s friends; and for him to say something that brought them to tears like this was going too far.

Seeing the different looks that their host, his friends, and his colleagues had was enough to bring Virgil to a heart-stopping realization. “No, no, no!”

The others turned to him, each with varying levels of confusion, but it was Roman who took up the voice of what they collectively felt, “Virgil, what’s wrong? Do you know what’s going on?”

He sighed, running his hands though his hair, “I might…Roman, you said you didn’t see Patton much while I was working with Logan, right?” The visionary facet nodded, “Logan did you see him at all while I was working with Roman?”

The rational personification straightened his glasses, “not that I can recall. Now that you mention it, I did find it odd that all of the chores had been done, and yet Patton was nowhere to be found.”

The observant attribute put his head in his hands, he could feel the panic clawing at his chest, but he pushed it away. He was the only one that had any clue as to what was going on, and the capability to mend the situation; he just hoped he was wrong. Looking up, he faced Joan and Talyn, “can you deal with him for a bit longer? Make sure he doesn’t get on social media and offend his fans?”

The severity of Anxiety’s tone wasn’t lost on Joan as they glanced over to Thomas, “sure, but what’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath in an attempt to slow his racing thoughts, “we need to go back to the mindscape…I should have noticed this sooner! All of the signs were there!” He growled the second-half of the statement to himself, furious for his own blatancy.

“Noticed what sooner?” Princey seemed ready to draw his sword, but no physical action could fight nightmares.

“I know what’s going on…I didn’t realize his nightmares were that bad though.” He tried to stop himself from shaking, “Patton’s fears consist of being alone, abandoned, isolation, solitude, and loneliness…his most common phrase when sleep-walking was…was _‘please don’t make me leave.’_ ” Joan and Talyn didn’t know what he was talking about, and he didn’t have time to tell them, but both the creative and logical sides had an aura of worry draped over them. “If I’m right, and I hope I’m not…Patton has ducked out the way I did…he left before we…we could make him leave.”

Logan’s tone had lost its professional edge and was now tinged with doubt, “but we would never cast him out…he knows that, doesn’t he?”

Virgil looked at the floor, “fear is a strong motivator,” he knew that better than anyone, but he wasn’t going to admit it, not while they were all scared. “Fear can make you do things that you would never do otherwise. Often times it can lead you to regretting those same actions later on, so the sooner we get Patton back…” He trailed off, gazing at their host, “there will be less to regret.”

The three of them turned to look at Thomas’s friends, but Talyn spoke before any of them could, “go get Patton and set things right. We can handle Thomas until then,” nods of agreement and thankful glances were hastily given before they returned to the mind-palace.

When they reappeared in the commons, the apprehensive trait didn’t even take his usual scan of the area before darting up the stairs, the other two following in close pursuit. The dead silence that filled the second-floor corridor was almost sickening, the only sound being that of their footsteps. He felt himself beginning to tremble, but he couldn’t fall into the clutches of panic, he had to stop things before they got any worse.

Without warning he ran to the light-blue door, and yet the knocking yielded no answer, “Patton, please let us in!”

He looked back at the other two; both had a growing glimmer of worry in their eyes as a response was yet to be heard. Logan moved forwards, his voice hardly audible, “what are we to do now?”

Desperation was spreading through Anxiety, chilling his blood like ice; he tried knocking again before speaking in the same low tone. “If his fears are the reason he left, then he will expect us to give up and walk away…” He glanced between his friends, “and we aren’t going to do that.” He had no idea where the confidence was coming from, but he didn’t have time to ponder it as he turned back to the threshold. “Patton, please listen to me…I’m speaking from experience. You will regret this later…so, don’t give yourself more to regret!”

When nothing followed, Roman joined in, “Patton listen to Virgil, whatever is going though your mind right now isn’t true!”

Logic’s voice quickly took the place of his fanciful counterpart’s, “Patton, none of us are going to abandon you.”

The youngest aspect was grateful for the contributions that the others gave; their words would convey that he wasn’t simply speaking on their behalves. It still wasn’t enough however, “please talk to us…let us help you!” Nothing, that was all they could hear, Virgil wracked his mind for what to do next, and an idea came to him, but would it be enough? Along with the _notes_ , and _‘West Side Story’_ , he still had one more gift to give, and it could be the key. “You two keep trying to get him to come out here, I’ll be right back.” With no confirmation that they would do as he instructed, the darker facet sprinted for his own corner of the mindscape.

Throwing the door open, it slammed into the frame that held it in place, but for the time being, he couldn’t care less. Moving to his desk, he flipped open the binder with Patton’s name on it, and took the object that resided in one of its pockets. It was a picture of all of them sitting, squished together on the sofa in the commons, and each of them was smiling to some degree from the ridiculous nature of the situation. What mattered most about the photo was that they were together, and more than that, they were all happy; it was one of the rare moments they had all shared in the emotion. Then there was the frame, it was in was entirely made of glass, and engraved at the bottom was one word, _Family_.

With the picture in hand he bolted back into the hall not even bothering with his door, there was no worry of anyone else entering his room just now. He didn’t pay any mind to his colleagues upon rejoining them and instead fell to his knees. His voice cracked with worry and care for the one he was trying to reach, “Patton please…” He slid the photo across the carpet, pushing it under the wooden surface that separated them from the paternal side until he could no longer see it. “You once accepted me when I though no one would…so please…let me do the same for you now!” He ignored the sharp intakes of breath from the other two, his legs barely bracing him as he rose to his feet. If this didn’t work, Anxiety feared he wouldn’t have the strength to force the door open; the desperation and panic coursing through him was taking up too much of his energy.

He could hardly hear the encouraging words the others were giving over the sound of his own racing heartbeat. Considering the option of just counseling the moral trait through the threshold, he just prayed that his voice would be heard. Worried that would have to be his course of action he gestured for the others to fall silent.

In the split second after they did, he was able to hear footfall beyond the door quickly cease, and it was something his companions didn’t catch onto; perhaps they had given up to easily. He dared to speak again, “Patton…we are still here…can you let us in please?” The soft sound of carpet being rustled told gloomier aspect that the picture had been picked up, but there was no indication that the door would be opened to them. Wracking his mind for anything else they could do, and idea came to him that he wasn’t too thrilled about, but he was willing to do anything at this point, so he turned to Princey. “I know this seems random, but I have my reasons…has Patton ever seen _‘The Sound of Music’_?”

Roman was bewildered, but answered all the same, “yes…many times actually, he asks to watch it with me pretty frequently…why?”

“You’ll see…” Virgil let his eyes rest on the door; this was his final idea, even though he didn’t do so often, he could sing. He just hoped that his last futile attempt would be enough to lure the father figure out of his room. He glanced to the others briefly, “this is one thing I am never going to live down…” Taking a deep breath he began in a shockingly clear tone, considering how rarely he used his voice in such a way.

“ _’Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens._

_Bright copper kettles, and warm woolen mittens._

_Brown paper packages tied up with strings,_

_These are a few of my favorite things.’_ ”

He didn’t dare look over to the ones in the corridor with him for fear that he would falter. Skipping the second verse, he relied on the poetic way with words that was attributed to his namesake for the third.

“ _’Double dog dad jokes that make most of us laugh._

_The caring and kindness that you make sure we have._

_We are a family thanks to what you bring._

_Will you please believe me when I say these things?’”_

He paused for a moment to make sure that his voice didn’t shake with the stage-fright and worry that sliced at him.

“ _’Through the darkest days,_

_And the bickering,_

_That can make us mad._

_You're there accepting what makes us unique,_

_To help us not feel so bad…’_ ”

When he finished the final verse, letting his tone gently drop off the last note; a faint click echoed through the hall, and the door finally swung open. The eldest facet slammed into him, throwing his arms around the shoulders of the youngest. He didn’t know if it was the overwhelming relief, joy, or a combination there upon that caused him to return the embrace.

Choked up with the tears that had already fallen to his hoodie, Morality still managed to speak, “d-do you r-really feel that way s-son?”

Anxiety pulled back to look at his friend in the eyes, “we all do.”

Logan and Roman both nodded emphatically, which resulted in Patton walking over and drawing them into a hug as well. It was the fanciful persona that spoke up next though; sounding slightly crushed from the intensity of the embrace. “There is one other thing I think we can all agree on…you were right Virge, I’m never letting you live that down.” He stopped for a moment to catch his breath as the kind side let go of them, “you must join me for karaoke sometime soon.”

He couldn’t bring himself to disagree as they each started laughing, even Logic cracked a smile when he added his point, “I’m also under the assumption that we concede, Virgil is a surprisingly good vocalist.”

The anxious trait placed his head in his hands to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks, his shoulders shaking with hilarity. He was glad that their friend had returned, bringing his cheerful nature with him.  He didn’t want to shatter the moment and bring them all back to reality, but it had to be done. “While I work with Patton, you two need to go check on Thomas, Joan, and Talyn.”

The moral figment stared at the carpet, the giddiness draining from him, “I-I’m so sorry about all of that, kiddos.”

Anxiety smiled at him sadly, touching his chin so that he looked up, “speaking from experience…no one is going to hold it against you.” The others gave their compliances before syncing into the real-world to check on their host and his friends; leaving them alone in the corridor. “Patton, I think it’s time we started working on your fears.” He didn’t miss the wary look in the eyes of the silent aspect, but he knew it would dissipate just as it had with the others. “I’m going to get my notes…and I think you are going to like the place I’ve chosen for us to talk.”

“You mean like how you took Logan to the library, and Roman to the screening room?” He simply nodded, “okay son…I’ll follow you.”

After retrieving the binder, Virgil walked the winding halls with Morality on his heels. Making their way deeper into the mind-palace; he couldn’t help but notice that the usually-happy facet was still clutching the picture frame. Multiple times he asked where they were going, but the younger of the two wasn’t going to ruin the surprise.

Finally they reached a dark grey door patterned with purple accents; he stopped, looking over his shoulder to his colleague who stood by cautiously. “This is a room that none of you have been in before and unlike my room, it isn’t dangerous. You’ve seen Logan and Roman’s, but…” he opened the door allowing them access inside, “Welcome to my dream space.” Together they stepped inside, and Patton brightened significantly at what sat before them. A room with deep purple walls, plush chairs, and fairy-lights strung around the perimeter just below the ceiling cast a dim light. A fireplace in the corner added warmth to the area, then there were the fuzzy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals that covered every surface, including the floor.

By extending an arm, Anxiety silently offered to let the child-like character explore the area freely, so that he could become more accustomed with it. The next thing he knew, the other was darting around picking up plushie after plushie, squealing with delight each time he found another he thought was cute or soft. While he rushed about tripping over blankets, pillows, and his own feet; the observant side headed for the chairs. He cleared them of most of the fuzzy objects, leaving only a pillow in his own, and a _Simba_ stuffed-animal in Morality’s. Much like before, he chose to keep the binder close, but kept it closed while he waited for the hyper trait to calm himself down.

Eventually he waded through the sea of fabric and fluff to sit across from the negative embodiment; holding the _Disney_ plush close to his chest, “so…how does this work?”

Natural conversation had worked thus far; so he assumed it would now, “we will get to that in a minute. For now I want to know, what do you think of the room?”

The moral aspect blinked at him for a bit but slowly began glancing around, “it’s great kiddo. I wouldn’t have expected your dream space to be quite so…soft. Now that I’m here though, I can see why you like it…” Virgil sat in silence, waiting for him to go on, “it’s cozy and safe.”

“Okay, so you feel safe now, but what if I were to step out into the hall?” The way his friend reacted to the question would dictate what course of action he would take next.

The darkly-dressed personification expected the answer he was given sadly enough, “I’d still feel safe…I know I’m in the mind-palace.” He knew the words weren’t true, but perhaps the paternal facet truly believed that’s how he felt. In the past the gloomier of the two had managed to convince himself that he wasn’t scared in situations where he was, and those never ended well for him.

He had to find a way to get the eldest to open up to him, and he had an idea on how to do so, “okay. Well, I left some of my notes back in my room, would you mind if I went to get them really quick?”

He watched as the color drained from Patton’s face, but his voice was shockingly steady, “no problem kiddo.”

The youngest stood, “If you're sure…I’ll be right back.” He moved into the corridor, ensuring that the door latched behind him. He walked a few yards down the hall and stepped around a corner, waiting.

He wasn’t there long, ten seconds at most before Morality darted out of the room, “Virgil! Come back!” He froze momentarily; he had expected a fearful reaction, but nothing like this. Patton’s breathing was too quick, his movements disjointed by the sound of his footsteps, and his voice cracked with terror. In the twenty seconds he had been out of the room, his friend had fallen completely into a panic-attack.

He had barely come to the realization before the fearful side ran past his hiding spot in the direction of the commons. Having gone further in the mindscape than he had in the past, and with no idea where he was, he just stopped, looking around frantically. Anxiety darted after him, “whoa! Patton…it’s okay, I’m right here.” He slammed into the youngest, nearly toppling them both, and he suddenly understood the similar reaction from less than half an hour ago. He whispered reassurances, but it was apparent that the panic was taking up too much of his energy as his knees buckled. The negative trait helped him slowly sit on the floor, this time staying by his side, “breathe in for four seconds.” He counted them off, “hold for seven seconds.” Counting again, “out for eight seconds.” He lost track of how many times he repeated the breathing technique before Morality could even stop sobbing hysterically, and Virgil couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt.

Through the sniffling and shortness of breath, the kind aspect was able to manage a few words, “I-I’m sorry k-kiddo…I-I thought I’d be o-okay.”

“Hey, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about…this is my fault.” He put a hand on the shoulder of the father figure, “I knew you weren’t ready to be left alone…but I though you would just call out or run after me. I didn’t know it would cause you to have a panic-attack, I wouldn’t have left you if I did.”

The observant facet watched as his companion wiped his eyes on the sleeves of the hoodie that was tied loosely around his neck. “Th-This wasn’t your f-fault…I-I shouldn’t have f-freaked out so e-easily.”

“No one can stop a panic-attack that severe on their own, especially not one as sudden as yours.” He listened closely as he spoke, Patton’s breathing was becoming more regular, “but, I’ll agree not to blame myself if you do the same for yourself.”

A very slight nod was his only agreement, but his tone was growing steadier as he calmed, “can we go back to the dream space now?”

“If you feel up to it…then sure,” Anxiety helped him to his feet, and together they began making their way back to the plushie-filled room. He stayed close by the side of the other, partially to aid in his recovery from the fear, but also to catch him if his knees were to buckle again.

Thankfully the lighter of the two was able to keep his footing, and his fragile composure. Sitting in the chairs, they stayed in a comfortable silence, allowing Patton to calm further; he held the _Simba_ stuffed-animal close in his arms, and gazed warmly at the picture he had been given earlier, which rested in his lap. Finally he spoke, but when he did, his voice was hardly more than a whisper, “how do you do it?”

The darker side was more than a bit perplexed by the question, “how do I do what?”

His eyes didn’t leave the photo, “stay in your room so often… _alone_?”

The fight-or-flight reflex waited until he looked up to answer, “I don’t…well, not as much as I used to.” He searched for the right words, “that’s not to mention that we are different. You're whole existence is based around friends and family; how to treat them, talk to them, and love them.” He sighed, propping his head on his hand, “I, as much as I’d like not to be, am still the embodiment of _Anxiety_. My job is to keep you, Thomas, and the others safe…or that’s what I like to think now.”

The glimmer of saddened confusion in Morality’s eyes sent a shiver down his spine, he didn’t want him becoming more upset, “what do you mean son?”

“In its simplest form, anxiety is a heightened fight-or-flight response…often to an unhealthy degree. For example, I take concepts like _don’t lose sleep over it_ and _stranger danger_ to ridiculous lengths. That makes it hard for me not to see everyone and everything as a threat…that’s why I acted the way I did around you guys for so long, it was a defense mechanism. That in no way excuses my actions, or some of the stuff that I said, and I hope I have since made up for them, but to me, the less I’m around…there’s less of a risk of me offending someone, or keeping them from an opportunity. That doesn’t mean I always enjoy being on my own…I guess I’m just used to it.” The younger trait had a feeling he hadn’t succeeded in keeping the other from having more to worry about.

The eldest gave him a helpless look, “oh…son you don’t have to- I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Sitting upright, the aspect dressed in black and purple smiled at his friend, “don’t worry too much. Things have gotten a lot better since you all accepted me and we've started coming to better understandings with each other. Trust me; I don’t feel like an outcast anymore; you all are my family.” He paused for a while, giving time for his last statements to sink in before continuing, “now, back to the more important topic. I don’t think a metaphorical approach to your fears if going to work for now, so I’m just going to get to the point. While I don’t want to be enabling…with how quickly you just fell into a panic-attack, I’m going to make a suggestion I wouldn’t dream of doing for the other two. Until we find a few techniques that work well, I’m going to advise you to stay close to at least one of us most of the time.” The parental facet gazed at him, speechless from the suggestion, “that being said, we should get started as soon as possible. The faster you pick up the new tactics; the faster you will find your fears more manageable.” Pulling the binder into his lap, he flipped it open, not missing the wary nature of the one sitting across from him. “Now, this goes without saying that you need to work on your fears, but knowing exactly what they are can help you find what will be most effective for you. Simply put, they are _loneliness_ , _isolation_ , _solitude_ , and _being alone_ or _abandoned_.”

Patton bowed his head, shame radiating from him, “and I acted on all of those today…”

Virgil picked up where he had trailed off, “yes…but, one thing I learned the hard way is that you can't let guilt overtake you. Try looking at it this way, sure the decision you made earlier was fueled by fear, and could have had bad outcomes, but they didn’t. Even if they had, I honestly don’t think any of us could have held that against you; and since everything has turned out okay, that’s all the more reason for us to forgive your mistakes.” He chuckled softly to himself, “I know this is an ironic statement coming from me, but worrying about an event that has already been forgiven will only make it easier to fall into an even more unhealthy state-of-mind.” He pulled a piece of paper from the binder and handed it to the normally-cheerful archetype, who looked it over hesitantly. “I think the best place for you to start is with ways to prevent a panic-attack before it begins. For example, you could carry something small, like a worry-stone in your pocket. When you feel fearful, you can pull it out, examine it, and have it remind you that we all still care about you, and no matter what, we will always come back. Alternatively, you could use these,” he pulled four small items from his hoodie pocket, braided bracelets that he had made earlier with each of their names beaded in. One was made of red and white thread and gold beading was Roman’s; one of a black and dark-blue fibers and white beading represented Logan. One with rainbow threads and black beading bore Thomas’s name; then the one made of black and purple strings with yellow beading carried his own name, Virgil.

He gave them to the moral attribute; who inspected them with tears in his eyes before placing them around his wrists, “th-thanks kiddo.”

“If you feel alone, you can always look at those and remember what I said, we all care about you, and the last thing we would ever do is abandon you.” They exchanged a smile before the youngest side went on, “as for what to do once a panic-attack has set in, there are multiple breathing and grounding techniques on that list for you to try. If all else fails, come find one of us, even Logan who is often busy with his studies wouldn’t turn you away in a situation like that.”

The ethical trait read over the paper in silence, but when his tone rose up, the words took the negative aspect by surprise, “could you write down the lyrics to your version of _‘My Favorite Things’_ that you sang earlier?”

Pushing aside the awe Anxiety felt at the prospect of someone actually enjoying the lines he had come up with, he flipped to a blank page in the binder. In the neatest handwriting he could manage, he jotted down the words he had improvised on and handed them over to his friend. “I’m glad you liked that…because, I’m not really one for singing.”

The joy that defined his counterpart was beginning to return, and to some extent it was infectious. “I know you don’t sing that often, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a good voice.” He glanced down at the lyrics, “and since you don’t sing all that much…it made the words mean that much more. I really appreciated that, kiddo.”

Virgil was nearly at a loss, unsure of how to respond to such a compliment, “th-thanks.” He began snickering lightly, he didn’t know if it was Morality’s happiness or the thought that had just entered his mind that caused him to start though. “Roman is never going to stop pestering me to join him for karaoke now.”

They both laughed freely, and the kind facet struggled to form a coherent sentence, “w-who knows…you m-might end up enjoying it.”

The observant side shrugged, only half against the thought, “I don’t know…I think I’ve done my fair share of singing in the _Sanders Sides_ videos, but we’ll see.” The conversation flowed easily after that, but as it did so, neither of them noticed how much time was passing as they jumped from topic to topic.

Upon checking in on Thomas, Roman and Logan had been relieved to find everything sorted out. Their host, through the valiant deeds of Joan and Talyn, had not caused any issues that were irreparable. They had prevailed in their quest of keeping the online personality from any social media, on which he could have vanquished his fan-base with his unjust actions and opinions.

Apologies and thanks had been exchanged after an explanation of the hardships had been given.  Upon hearing of them, Thomas requested a convention including both Patton and Virgil at the nearest opportunity. The differing traits promised to comply with his wishes before returning to the mind-palace, where they would wait to tell the tale of their victory to the other two.

Minutes turned to hours, and one after the other slipped into the past with no word from their companions. Slowly Princey began to worry that something disastrous had happened to them, “Logan, how long are we going to sit idly by waiting for Patton and Virgil?”

“I have been wondering about where they have gone as well.” The intellectual straightened his glasses, “I don’t think there is any issue however; the two of them are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.”

The fanciful aspect stood from where he had been residing on the sofa, a sense of worry resting like a heavy burden on his shoulders, “do you think Deceit has returned and harmed them in some way?”

Logic shook his head, not looking up from his book, “I seriously doubt that. Deceit may be powerful when it comes to swaying Thomas’s judgment, but I don’t think he is capable of taking on both of them physically.”

The Prince couldn’t shake the nagging concern that there was something more sinister going on, as if something had gone wrong, “even still, should we not at the very least try and find them?”

The distant look in the eyes of the rational facet made him appear that much more thoughtful, “I don’t think so. We wouldn’t want to interrupt them.”

He was becoming exasperated with his colleague, “yes, but it didn’t take Virgil this long to talk with either one of us.”

“No, but it would seem that Patton’s fears were a bit more severe than our own. Correct me if I am wrong, but to my knowledge, neither of us had the same sort of panicked reaction to our apprehensions.”

The academic’s overly-placid view did nothing to calm his nerves, only causing frustration. He couldn’t just stand by; he was a knight, and if there was even a chance that the others were in distress, then it was his sovereign duty to find and assist them. “Be that as it may, I’m still going to search for them; if they need my help, I will not fail to oblige. You may join me if you so please, but you cannot keep me from trying.”

The whimsical persona was already heading for the corridor when a sigh from Logan caused him to halt, “fine. I can't have you getting lost in the mindscape alone…I’ll come with you.”

Roman had no idea as to how long they had been wandering the halls, and he’d lost count of how many turns they had made. One thing he was fairly certain of however, was that they had traversed this area already. It didn’t help that as time passed, he became more concerned. He was pretty sure Logic felt the same, but he didn’t voice it. He wished he had Anxiety’s skills of perception as they came upon another intersection; each direction seemed the same to him, but he was sure that there was some minor detail that he was over-looking.

The analytical side was leaning against the right wall, “Roman, I am almost certain that we are lost.”

He glanced down each of the corridors again; he had to find some way through them, “we can't just give up. Besides, if we are lost, how do we know the others aren’t?”

His friend’s tone was a clear indicator of his annoyance, “Virgil spends quite a lot of time in these parts of the mindscape, and so I think we can safely assume that the others are not lost.”

The creative trait couldn’t stop the thoughts and ideas that flooded his head, “do you think that they found a more dangerous part of the mind-palace and got themselves injured?”

They started down the left passageway, but that wasn’t cause for the intellectual to lose his tongue, “once again I shall remind you that Virgil knows more about these areas than the rest of us. The odds of him getting into a risky situation are next to none; which are diminished further if you think he would take Patton anywhere near such a place.”

“There is still a chance though,” The Prince had felt more comfortable dueling with the _dragon-witch_ than he did roaming the darkened halls. “He doesn’t know every inch…they could be trapped!”

Logan, as he had many times prior in their adventure, sighed at his suggestion. “Virgil would never take Patton to any place that he wasn’t certain he couldn’t find their way back to the commons.”

The two of them made another turn, which did nothing to help them gain their bearings, “perhaps Patton ran off and Virgil went after him, and they got lost that way.”

The factual aspect shook his head, becoming more irritated as they walked, “Patton is afraid of being alone and abandoned, so I highly doubt he would leave Virgil’s side, especially not in a part of the mindscape of which he is unaccustomed.”

“Virgil said it himself, fear is a strong motivator…maybe Patton was worried something had happened and tried to come find us.”

The logical facet came to an abrupt halt, his arms crossed, “Roman this is all preposterous. I know that we disagree on quite a number of things, but I think we both know that the others are perfectly capable of dealing with difficult situations, and getting out of them if the need were to arise. If Patton feared that anything was wrong with us, he would merely request that Virgil escort him back to the commons.” He glanced around at the dim-lit corridor, “you are right about one thing; fear is a strong motivator, that’s why we’re wandering about like this. You also seem to forget that _we_ are the ones who are lost, the others could easily have returned to the main part of the mindscape by now and be wondering of has happened to _us_.”

The visionary character held the level gaze of the other, his worry boiling into exasperation. “If you are so certain that there is nothing wrong with the others, and of our own ordeal, then what do you suggest we do?”

The academic stayed silent, sweeping his eyes around the area one more time before replying, “it is something to consider, but we may be able to solve both of our predicaments at once. From what I have noticed, no matter where we were when we were summoned, we always reappear in the common-room after leaving the real-world. If we were to go there now, not only would we be able to find our way back, but we could also have Thomas summon the other two. That would also allow for him to speak with all of us as he asked, therefore we would be solving that issue as well.”

The solution seemed so obvious now that it had been laid out before him, “what are we waiting for then? Let’s go!”

Without another word, they synced out of the mindscape and appeared in their usual places. If Joan and Talyn were still over, they were nowhere to be seen, but the host of the sides jumped up from where he had been sitting on the sofa when he saw them, “Logan, Roman!” He let his eyes flit to the empty spots where the other two would normally reside, “where are Patton and Virgil?”

Princey was quick to respond, wanting to find them as soon as possible, “we don’t actually know…we've been looking for them for at least an hour, but we haven’t been able to track them down.”

“As a matter of fact, that is part of why we are here,” Logic’s words were rattled off at an even quicker pace than usual. He must be more concerned than his creative counterpart had given him credit for, “since we were unsuccessful in our attempts to discover their whereabouts, and they have been gone longer than we expected, we thought the best course of action would be to have you summon them here. If you were to do so, you could speak with them, and it would solve our dilemma with their disappearance.”

The online personality took a moment to decipher the teacher’s rapid speech, his eyes wide. “If you two want me to, I’ll summon them…are you sure we won't be causing an interruption though?”

The whimsical trait attempted to push back the worry that was threatening to blind him, “we’re pretty sure they wouldn’t be interrupted…and since we can't find them, I think it would give us some peace-of-mind to know that they are okay.”

Virgil snickered as he spoke, “pancakes are great…what I don’t understand is Logan’s never-ending obsession with _Crofter’s_ , and putting that on them, and-” He was cut off by the familiar tugging sensation that meant Thomas wanted him in the real-world, and by the looks of it, Patton was being summoned too. Glancing over to the clock above the fireplace, his heart skipped a beat, it was no wonder the others wanted their attention, they had been talking for nearly three hours. Time had passed much faster than either had expected, flying by once they were engaged in genuine conversation. The others were probably worried that they had gotten lost or hurt from being so far into the mindscape, which wasn’t nearly as dangerous as they perceived it to be. Locking eyes for no more than an instant, it was clear that the eldest aspect shared in the understanding of the worry the others must feel. With that they left the dream space to meet with the ones who were already waiting for them.

When they showed up, the youngest facet didn’t miss the looks of relief that Logan and Roman wore, but it was Thomas’s voice that filled the silence. “Patton, Virgil, it’s good to see you…I think some of us were becoming concerned at your disappearance.”

Morality’s words closely followed those of the YouTuber, “we didn’t mean to worry any of you, kiddos. We were just talking and time passed quicker than we’d thought.”

Logic gave Princey a glare that clearly carried the message, _I told you so_ , to which the fanciful attribute gave a mocking look. “Is it so wrong of me to be concerned with the well-being of my friends?”

Even the cold, stiff tone of the second-eldest couldn’t hide the alleviation shining in his eyes, “no, I am merely making an expression conveying that I was correct in thinking that there was never any cause to worry.”

There was a playful manner in how the Prince leaned forward slightly and lifted his head, “oh of course…says the one who was talking at the speed of light before they were summoned.”

Anxiety jumped in before the argument could continue, “other than knowing we are okay, is there a reason we were called?”

Rather than one of the other personifications, it was Thomas who answered his question, “yes. I wanted to check in with all of you and see if things have improved from the last time we all met.” He suddenly took on an aura of shame that confused him, “I just hope we didn’t interrupt anything important.”

The darkly-dressed side shrugged, but he couldn’t keep the laughter from his tone, “if you consider a conversation about pancakes important…then sure. If not, I finished working with Patton over two hours ago.” The trait in question nodded in agreement, giggling at the sarcastic statement.

He let his gaze pass between the two who had been in the real-world longer as their host smiled, “good. I was hoping that was the case-”

The online personality was cut off as Logan turned to face them, “actually the degree of importance of your conversation hinges on what kind of pancakes you were referring to when Thomas summoned you.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smirk, and he knew what the reaction to his reply was going to be before he even said it. “We were just talking about putting _Crofter’s_ on pancakes…nothing too important-”

“FALSEHOOD!” They all started laughing at the outburst of the normally-composed aspect, who apparently noticed the shift in attention as he cleared his throat and regained his professional demeanor. “I mean…it is a meaningful matter, but it’s in the past now. It’s just comforting to know that the two of you are in good health. The question I now have is of your whereabouts; we searched for the better part of an hour, and still couldn’t find you.”

The darkest facet finally stopped laughing, but only just as understanding took over, “We were in my dream space, but I see what happened. You two tried to come looking for us because you were worried…and then you got lost in the mindscape and couldn’t find your own way out, so you came here and asked Thomas to summon us, didn’t you?”

The creative and logical figments shared a dumbfounded glance, but it was the prior who found his voice first. “I don’t know why your…frequently correct…statements and questions still manage to take us by surprise. How did you know that?”

“Logan said that you were looking for us, and to be looking for an hour…you would have had to go further into the mind-palace than either of you are used to. One thing I know well is that those corridors are a labyrinth if you don’t know where you are.” The observant manifestation felt almost prideful at the stunned gazes he received, “also, they aren’t as dangerous as you think they are. They’re just a bit dark because they aren’t used enough to warrant changing the light-bulbs.”

“Well you guys can discuss _not-so-scary_ hallways later,” Thomas let his eyes rest on each of them, “As for now…I can tell that you all are on better terms with one another, but I want to know how today went. I know there was a lot of tension surrounding the events, so I hope they went well.” That was a question that the other sides would have to answer, and their opinions would be completely subjective. A jolt of worry suddenly coursed through Anxiety, he hadn’t expected a report or analysis of his counseling from the other three.

The father figure stepping forward broke him from his thoughts, “I for one am actually feeling better…” He trailed off turning to face their host, “I haven’t had a chance to apologize for what happened earlier…I didn’t mean for anything to happen to you…I’m sorry, son.”

The online personality gave him a saddened smile, “there was no harm done, so don’t let it get to you. You're back now and that’s all that matters.”

The others nodded in agreement at the statement, and thankfully Patton appeared relieved. More than likely, that would be a topic that the negative trait would have to go over with him in the future, but for now he looked comforted by the approval of his family. “Thanks, kiddo…as for the rest of the day, I have to say that Virgil helped me more than I thought I was able to be helped.” He glanced to Roman and Logan, “and I’m sure he did the same for you two.”

The whimsical aspect held himself in less of a rigid poise, “I have to say that I was impressed by the ideas that Virgil came up with for me as well. They were far more fitting to my personality than I’d expected.” He smiled mischievously at the darker persona, “he’s also a surprisingly good singer.”

The anxious facet had been right, he was never going to live that down, but he didn’t have time to formulate a response before Thomas did. “What are you talking about? Did you somehow get _Virgil_ to sing?”

Morality giggled, “Roman didn’t…I did. Virgil actually resorted to singing to get me to come out of my room.”

“I can show you if you want!” The enthusiastic comment made him freeze as his imaginative counterpart reached for his phone.

“I should have guessed you would record me,” even though he grumbled the words, he made no attempt to stop the video from being shown.

As the Prince tapped the screen he spoke once more, his voice maintaining the good-humor he had. “If you outright tell me that I’m not going to let you live something down, I need to get my proof that it happened.” He moved over to their host who was waiting with anticipation, and a moment later the video began. Quiet at first, but he heard the tone of his voice and buried his head in his hands. The fight-or-flight reflex longed to get away from the on-looking eyes as it got to the improvised verses.

The recording cut off just after the eldest slammed into him and Anxiety dared to look up, which he wasn’t sure if he regretted when he saw the compassionate awe in the eyes of the YouTuber. The feeling was only enhanced by the glances that passed between the other three attributes. “I know I’ve heard you sing before, but that was really sweet, Virgil. How did you come up with those lyrics on the spot like that?”

His head was still lowered in embarrassment from the praise Thomas gave; still, he couldn’t ignore such a direct question. “I _am_ named after a poet…but other than that, I was willing to try anything at that point. To be completely honest…I didn’t know I was capable of improv.”

Patton was the next to draw his attention, “well it worked, kiddo, and you did a really good job coming up with that. It certainly meant a lot to me.” The others gave their own forms of agreeance, but it was obvious from his smile that Roman was going to ask him at every turn to join in his karaoke.

Their host was still grinning with a warm gaze before turning to Logan, “so the others seem to be doing well, what about you?”

“I personally found Virgil’s approach to be most helpful. Not only were the techniques he gave useful in almost every situation, but he gave me an array of them as well. The most remarkable inclusion however, was the clever use of location and metaphor. For example, he counseled me in the library, and I know he didn’t do the same for the other two. As for the metaphor, we were nearly done with the conversation before I figured out that the seemingly irrelevant topic of a book was actually insightful to my concerns. That’s not to mention he was able to stop me from panicking.” Logic wore an expression of appreciation as he nodded in the direction of the negative side, who was still reeling from all the compliments. All of them seemed to be pleased with his work, putting the worries he’d felt that morning to rest.

“He helped me out of a panic-attack as well!” The kind trait clapped happily while giving his input.

The YouTuber beamed like a proud parent, “if all is well then-”

“Wait,” all of them stopped, facing Princey after he cut Thomas off, “what about you, Virgil? Please don’t take this the wrong way…but you are the embodiment of anxiety, how do we know that you don’t need the same help that we do?”

Even in knowing that the others had read his notes, which held a list of his own fears; he was taken aback by the question. The observant facet hadn’t expected them to bring up his own worries, especially not with them being overshadowed by those of the others. Still, Roman had managed to do so, and in a shockingly tactful way.

The look in the eyes of his visionary companion wasn’t lost on the darkly-dressed emotion, he was afraid that he had come across as offensive, when in reality he was sort of touched by the gesture. “I appreciate the concern, Sir Sing-A-Lot, but going over all the ways to help you guys may have been just as helpful to me.” The confusion that blanketed the others spurred him to continue, “I may be able to take some of my own advice. I actually didn’t realize it until I was working with all of you, that many of the tactics I taught might just be useful in my case as well. I can pick up a book and read or watch a musical to calm my nerves, use grounding techniques more regularly, or even try something as simple as talking with you guys.”

The four sides looked around at one another fondly; a sense of familial bonding having been strengthened from the whole situation, and it was only enforced by the contribution of their host. “I’m glad to see that you all are doing better today…but I have to say that it means a lot to me to know that all of you are learning to listen to each other more, and help one another through tough times like this.”

It had been nearly a month since the ordeal with the sleep-walking had occurred, the Prince was no longer injured, and Virgil had kept his promise to start having movie nights with him. They had even begun inviting the others to join them, which ended up making the experience even more enjoyable. Most importantly however, was the progress that they had all made in the time since that dreadful night. To say that they were all happier and more productive was a major understatement at best.

Patton had been the one in need of the most assistance; even still, it had only taken him a few days to get to the point where he could be left alone for short periods of time, and those had lengthened as he worked more and more with his fears. Now, he still asked for their reassurances frequently, but overall he was much more comfortable in knowing that the others would always be there for him. That being said, Anxiety had noticed him fidgeting with the bracelets he’d given the paternal trait when he was nervous or when he came to ask for help. He thankfully hadn’t been plagued with another panic-attack, but the two were still working together every few days.

Logan had been the next in line with the severity of his fears, but just like with his moral counterpart, he’d improved significantly. Even when he wasn’t working, the youngest aspect had noticed him using the breathing and grounding tactics regularly. The academic had come to the realization after a few more sessions of counseling, that he wasn’t neglecting his responsibilities at all; in fact he was going above and beyond what he needed to do. Part of the issues he was experiencing were actually stemming from being overworked and lack of sleep. The intellectual also found while he was working on that, nearly every mistake he made was resolved so swiftly that the others were almost never aware that they had even occurred. The discovery didn’t make him prideful, but it did boost his confidence and self-esteem.

Roman had been further ahead than the other two in his concerns, but he had work that still needed to be done. He had come to terms with just how much the others needed him however, and that most of the opinions they had of him were positive. Those that weren’t were discussed in private, and a compromise would be found with hardly a disturbance at all. If anything, he still needed the occasional reminder about how common imperfections were, and that it was okay for the creative facet to have them. Other than that though, he was doing well in conquering his phobias, and had reached a point of maturity in which he didn’t feel defeated when he had to ask the gloomier figment for advice.

As for Virgil, his continued counseling of the others had helped him to come to terms with many of his own issues. Joining his colleagues in their activities such as Princey’s movie nights, Logic’s studies, and Morality’s baking had further proven that he was necessary. It had also succeeded in getting him out of his room more, and showing him that his mere presence didn’t cause others to miss opportunities. The darker character couldn’t help the feeling of warmth he had from watching the others improve over time, which in turn helped his own worries even more.

The problems surrounding the sleep-walking were all but gone now, and no one else had gotten hurt. The other sides had even taken to making him to get more sleep during the day, and watched over him during that time to make sure that his own somnambulism didn’t result in injury. Every now and again, one of them would stir in the night, and the fight-or-flight reflex would simply join them in the corridor, gently coaxing the sleeping figure back to their bed.

With everyone facing their fears instead of suppressing them, there was a new sense of peace that filled the mindscape. A feeling that all of them could partake in, and despite their clear improvements and the joy he found in them, Virgil knew that there would never come a day when he or any of the others wouldn’t be needed.


End file.
